Hermione Undaunted
by evenstar101
Summary: Boys, school, war, and falling in love with a professor? Sounds like a challenge for the average person, but not for Hermione Granger who takes what she wants, as soon as she knows she wants it that is, and is relentless in her courage to see it through.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No. Definitely not mine. I wish.

Hermione Undaunted

Chapter 1

Hermione scanned the Great Hall as she had done every morning since term began. She did not know exactly what she was looking for, only that if something strange did happen she was not planning to miss it. The Head table was fuller than it used to be at breakfast time in the past and she assumed it was because more teachers were trying to keep a watchful eye on all the students during this time of uncertainty, although no one had come right out and said so. Over the summer Hermione spent her free time devising ways to protect her parents when the time came, and researching not only defensive spells and tactics, but also offensive spells, and even potions that might come in handy. She had books on warding, healing, and survival stashed in her trunk along with some of her less controversial texts on war strategy. She planned to be prepared whatever direction the war took, when it finally took hold.

Since the Ministry discovered that Harry was not barking mad and that Voldemort really had returned when they visited the Hall of Prophecies, Voldemort and his cronies had been strangely quiet. Toward the end of the summer, Hermione reluctantly left home to spend the last couple of weeks before sixth year at the Weasley's. She was excited to be back, particularly to see Ron, but she worried about her parents. It was clear why Harry was a target of Voldemort's, but it was unclear when or how he would strike, and it was of course a fear that he might start slowly, through relatives of his friends. She didn't know, but Moody was right. Always be vigilant.

The summer, however, did not end as she had planned. Ron showed no more interest in her than he did a tossed salad, and while they were at Diagon Alley to see his brothers' joke shop he had spent the better part of an hour ogling Lavender Brown who had somehow managed to blossom over the short six weeks since they had seen her last. Hermione would have wagered that Lavender used an engorgement charm on her chest if it wasn't for Ginny transforming in the same way, and she was a year younger. Hermione folded her arms over her own small chest bitterly. Her parents were both thin, her mother very much so, and not very curvy. Hermione was destined to be the same she was afraid. And today, of all days, September nineteenth, was her seventeenth birthday. She was officially an adult in the wizarding world, but looked no more like one than the next fifth year.

Hermione forced herself to concentrate and started her scan of the Great Hall over again. She started with her own table and nearly sighed with disgust. Harry was staring daggers at Dean Thomas while he and Ginny snuggled close and giggled. Ron was talking loudly to anyone who would listen about how much of an asset he was going to be to the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year as a Keeper while shooting glances at Lavender to see if she was listening. She was with rapt attention, her chin in her hand and a dreamy expression on her face. Not for the first time she wondered what it was she ever saw in him. For a moment Hermione wished that she was with some handsome, intelligent, rich wizard and all her friends were as lonely and plain as she felt. Glad to be looking somewhere else, Hermione let her gaze travel to the Head table.

The teachers were all talking amongst themselves as if nothing was amiss. Even Dumbledore with his mysteriously blackened hand seemed to be enjoying breakfast. As far as they were behaving, there was never a threat of war, or wasn't a room full of pubescent teenagers positively sweating pheromones. Snape was the only one who seemed even remotely aware that something was stinking up the place based on his facial expression, and he kept checking the time impatiently. He must have felt Hermione's eyes because he suddenly looked right into them. Hermione felt herself blush as she looked quickly away at the Slytherin table. They were a strange lot, Slytherins. Hermione did not really think it was such a bad thing to be in Slytherin. The stigma, while understandable, was a little uncalled for, and she doubted most of them would be half as bad as they were if they weren't expected to be. Next to her, Ron let out a strange laugh at something Lavender said, and she once again drifted into a short fantasy of how he would react if she had that rich, handsome boyfriend. Somebody he would really hate, like… Malfoy. Hermione was ripped out of her fantasy by Malfoy who was looking directly at her with a smirk on his face. That was strange considering how distracted he seemed to be since the beginning of the year. He also gave Harry a nice treat to the face when he caught him spying on the train. Harry was under the assumption that Malfoy had become a Death Eater in place of his imprisoned father, but Hermione wasn't quite so sure. Trying to appear as if she was looking past him, rather than at him, she slowly slid her gaze over his head and then back to her plate.

_Pathetic,_ she snapped at herself. Thankfully her self-recriminations were interrupted by the arrival of the mail. Along with her Daily Prophet, she received a birthday card and some money from her parents to buy whatever she wished. She had an idea where most of that money would go, savings, but she was tempted to sneak one of Ginny's Witch Weekly magazines to see what kinds of robes or make up they were advertising.

"Oh, right on time!" Harry exclaimed, startling Hermione out of the ridiculous notion that she might get eye shadow or new clothes. Why was she even bothering? "I was worried this wasn't going to make it today."

Harry handed Hermione a package that was clearly books. "Happy Birthday, Hermione."

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, genuinely happy as she ripped off the brown paper. Inside were three books, one on warding that she already had, but didn't say so, another that was a nice leather bound homework planner which was really nice, and finally the last one, the latest edition of Hogwarts a History, updated through Harry's defeat of Voldemort when he was only a year old. "This is really nice."

Ron looked at her frowning slightly.

"Your present was really great, too," Hermione replied with false cheer. He had given her loads of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Sugar Quills, Fizzing Whizzbees, and a myriad of other sweets that she knew he would be asking after before long. "You'll have to help me with it, though. I won't possibly be able to eat it all."

Ron beamed at her then and Hermione wished that he weren't so simple sometimes. It made her feel like she was simple for not being able to stop liking him. Lavender sent her a nasty look and then said something behind her hand to Parvati Patil. Hermione rolled her eyes and excused herself from the table to put her gifts away and to hide in the library before potions and then double defense against the dark arts, her breakfast untouched.

Snape was pleased as punch to be teaching DADA this year. There was no doubt about it. It was his favorite subject and he believed that being involved with the good side and the bad side for so many years earned him more credibility than any other member of the staff. Perhaps even more so than Dumbledore, although Snape knew in his heart of hearts that Dumbledore had some skeletons in his closet even if the wizened old codger refused to talk of his past. If only this whole year wasn't going to be tarnished by his extra duties. Voldemort was pressing him constantly for information he really didn't have, same with the Order, and now he had an Unbreakable vow to honor with Narcissa Malfoy over Draco. The older that boy got, the more he needed a damned babysitter. It really did break Snape's heart that Voldemort would destroy the Malfoy's that weren't currently on an island holiday if dear old Draco didn't fulfill his duties, but not enough to be glad to have sworn to do it in his place. Damn Bellatrix and her flare for dramatics.

To top it off, Dumbledore had to go and curse himself over the summer and now he was stuck in another vow with the old man himself. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't, and his only reward for participating was to kill the one man in his life who ever truly seemed to give a hoot. His only comfort was that maybe Dumbledore would slip on a banana peel and crack his head and he would be absolved on all counts, and vows. As much as he resented every second that slipped away from him, he didn't want to die just because he wasn't particularly in the mood to off his best friend. Snape would be lucky to escape Voldemort once his usefulness wore off anyway, but it didn't stop him from fantasizing about what he would do with his remaining years if he somehow did.

Snape was still trying to work out what in Circe's underwear drawer Dumbledore was doing with a ring so thoroughly cursed he was lucky to have survived at all. Dumbledore was as tight as a Gringott's Vault when it came to that information. He did allude to the fact that they had to be watchful for similar curses on other seemingly arbitrary items thanks to Draco's little mission, but Snape knew better than to assume that curse came courtesy of Draco. He did not want help killing Dumbledore and even his aunt Bellatrix wasn't that talented. The curse was old, and powerful, and it reeked of Voldemort, or something older. The ring was broken and curse free now, but there was a symbol on it Snape wanted to figure out. If Dumbledore thought he was going to just accept his vague explanations to things and half answers to Snape's questions, then he had another think coming because Snape would puzzle it out on his own if he had to. There was another matter of his 'private' lessons with Potter. He had something to do with it all and Snape was going to find out what.

The staff was doing a fantastic a job of acting as if nothing unusual, like oh a war perhaps, was on its way. Hagrid had spent the first few weeks of term moping that nobody wanted to take his Care of Magical Creatures class. It was a shame too because Snape maintained that although his teaching methods left a lot to be desired, the creatures he chose for them to study were a hell of a lot more useful and interesting than knarls and bowtruckles. Even his dabbling escapades in breeding could have taught the students something useful if he didn't create such disgusting creatures as blast ended skrewts. But did he use the opportunity as a teaching point? No, he made the students look after the nasty lot instead. In the end, it was the Golden Gryffindor Trio that Hagrid was really pouting about. No one ever imagined that Harry Potter would not sign up for one of Hagrid's classes. Even Snape was surprised to find that out.

Slughorn had already slipped right back into his old ways. If Snape wasn't so glad to have the old potions master back, he might have pressed Dumbledore further on why he was there too. Snape knew that he would likely be teaching only one year since the DADA position was supposedly cursed and he would either have to die, quit, get sacked, teach another class by the time the next year rolled around, but the one year was enough to keep him from grumbling about Slughorn's presence. Naturally Potter made it into fat old man's teacher's pet club, and the way he raved about Potter's talent in the potions classroom made Snape sick to his stomach. Rumor had it that Ginny Weasly made it in just because she could throw a good hex, and Granger too because of her vast amounts of knowledge. Naturally he had some other students with legitimate connections to important people in the Wizarding world, but Snape doubted any of the students themselves were bright enough to find their way out of a toilet stall in the dark. Except for Granger, as annoying as she was, she understood a little more than the others. And there was something about her this year, something watchful that he appreciated.

As if his thoughts of her could somehow catch her attention they locked eyes for a moment. He kept his face expressionless, but he could see her cheeks turn a little pink as she turned her face towards the Gryffindor table. Her look was assessing and calculative at first, but then her eye slid slightly out of focus until Draco laughed at her and then she turned away embarrassed again. Seeing Draco smirk was new. He hadn't made one attempt to do anything but scowl since he got back from school. Laughing at Granger was nothing new at all. All the other Gryffindors, and the rest of the houses for that matter, were all staring at each other dopey eyed or sharing their mail, or otherwise going about their business. Even the Chosen One didn't seem to think there was anything more important than the Weasley girl and his sausages. Granger alone seemed to be the only one looking for something in the faces around her. It was clear she was looking for something. Probably the same something he was looking for, anything that might spell trouble later. It must be her birthday, Snape thought. She was getting gifts of some sort from her friends. She didn't look older than last year by much, but she seemed it. He still could barely stand the sight of her though. He turned his eyes away. He would get enough of her in DADA that day. Thursdays were a double with Gryffindors.

Snape looked at his watch to see if he had sat in the Great Hall long enough to satisfy Dumbledore. The Headmaster was insistent that he appear at as many meals as possible so that the ones he missed doing Death Eater duties weren't seen as too extraordinary considering that all the teachers missed a meal in the Great Hall every now and then. Dumbledore anticipated many long absences of his own and it would be too noticeable if Snape was somehow missing for prolonged periods of time as well. Deciding he had stayed long enough, he slipped out of the Great Hall to relax in his office for the last few minutes before his first class.

Hermione was seething by the end of potions. She very carefully followed each instruction in her potions book to the letter and still her potions were barely acceptable compared to the ones Harry made using the Half-Blood Prince's notes. She didn't know what he was playing at still using the book not having a clue who the Half-Blood Prince was. It was as if he learned absolutely nothing from Tom Riddle's diary in second year. One of those directions could be a dangerous trick and a lot of people could get hurt. Hermione spent so much rolling her eyes every time Slughorn clapped Harry on the back for being such a natural talent at potions that she could have drawn a detailed map of the inside of her skull. Ron insisted she was just jealous that she wasn't the top of the class anymore, and yes she was a little bit, but what bothered her the most was knowing that the instructions in their book were clearly substandard and if someone had known better, why wasn't their book improved upon? If the Half-Blood Prince wasn't dangerous, they were certainly brilliant and she would like to know who it is. They thankfully ruled out Voldemort since the book wasn't old enough. That didn't mean much though.

By the time the trio arrived in the Dungeons for DADA Hermione was barely speaking to either of her friends. This seemed to suit them just fine, however, and they turned their talk to Quidditch trials coming on Saturday. Soon Snape joined them and nobody was talking at all. He seemed to be in his typical foul mood, but Hermione was glad when he split them up to practice nonverbal spells again. Neither Ron nor Harry had been able to do a nonverbal spell successfully, but she was already quite good at them. What she really wanted to do was practice some of her own side work. They were supposed to be hexing and then blocking, but Hermione didn't like doing that because it meant letting down her shield long enough to send a hex and then putting it back up. She'd been practicing a warding shield that allowed her to shoot through it without harming its integrity. So far, Hermione had only been able to practice setting it up and shooting through it. She didn't know yet if it was strong enough to deflect a spell, particularly when she set it up nonverbally. The major advantage to the spell was that it would cover her completely, including her back so a sneak attack would be deflected without her having to even turn around. If it was successful she would teach Harry and Ron, and any other member of Dumbledore's Army that cared to learn such a valuable defensive tool. It was extremely hard though, and she always felt a little drained after practicing. She was aware she needed to build up her stamina.

As Snape wandered around the room taking points away from anyone who said a spell out loud, Hermione managed to disarm both Harry and Ron before she even bothered to put up her shield.

"Show off," Ron muttered as Hermione handed his wand back to him.

Snape heard him and wandered over to their group. "Perhaps you would all benefit from different partners today. I would hate to think you are going soft on each other."

Snape paired Harry up with Neville, which honestly served him right. Neville was having just as hard a time as Harry mastering nonverbal spells and would certainly be no help to Harry. Hermione thought it was simply mean of Snape to hamper Harry's progress even further, but not surprising. He sent Ron off to work with a Slytherin Hermione didn't know very well, and put her with Malfoy. It was usually Harry he sent off with Malfoy so she was more than a little surprised. She wasn't going to take any chances though and cast the warding shield around herself before she even turned around. Malfoy looked at Snape with annoyed expression and sent the disarming hex her way before she was even fully facing him. Instinctively she swiveled around and disarmed him, but at the same time she could feel the ping of his spell as it bounced off her shield. She couldn't help but smile at her own handiwork as she watched Malfoy pick up his dropped wand.

"Luck," he whispered through gritted teeth.

"You wish," Hermione whispered back. Her shield held up against two more attempts against it. On the second one she thought she felt something hit the shield from behind near her left calf, glancing behind her she shook it off as somebody else's spell gone astray and considered herself lucky it didn't hit because that is when the shield broke and Malfoy hit her full on with Locomotor Mortis. She hit the ground hard and was grateful she didn't have the muscle control to cry out in pain. She expected Malfoy to just leave her there, but he surprised her by doing the counter curse right away.

"Why did you look behind you?" he demanded

"I," she faltered. "I don't know. It was a stupid mistake."

Draco snorted some sort of agreement and made to start again when Snape came around and told everyone to take their seats. Hermione looked at Malfoy again out of the corner of her eye, but he was staring at the wall not even bothering to pretend he was listening to Professor Snape lecture. Hermione thought maybe Malfoy had some sort of problem with Professor Snape, but she was probably just imagining it. Something had to be on Malfoy's mind pretty heavily though if he wasn't going to bother to do some sort of harm to Hermione especially after Snape just handed her to him. She still didn't think Harry's theory of Draco becoming a Death Eater added up, but there was definitely something there that might be worth investigating. All in all, though, Hermione was quite satisfied that her shield worked, she just needed more practice at keeping it up.

"I don't have time for anymore bloody homework with Quidditch trials only two days away," Ron grumbled as they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. Snape had ordered everyone who still couldn't do a nonverbal disarming spell to write a fourteen inch essay on the benefits of being able to do one. "I wanted to punch Malfoy for hexing you like that Hermione," he added.

"Yeah," Harry added. "It was stupid of Snape to pair you up like that. Malfoy could have done anything to you and I bet Snape wouldn't have stopped it."

Hermione sniffed. "I can defend myself, you know. Besides, I got better practice out of working with Malfoy than I usually do, but thanks for the chivalry."

"So what we aren't good enough is it?" Ron asked haughtily. "So, I suppose you're all chummy with Malfoy now?"

"Stop it, Ron," Hermione said even though she was pleased a little that he seemed to think her having any kind of relationship with Malfoy made him angry. She wondered if he would be equally angry if it was a Gryffindor boy he liked, like Seamus for example. She quickly squashed that thought and went to her seat. There wasn't enough time to think about boys anyway, with her homework, and the extra things she was teaching herself, and the impending war. Ron went back to not talking to her and she ate lunch quickly and left before Lavender could show up and start making googly eyes at him again.

During DADA Snape paired Granger off with Malfoy hoping he would be a better match for her than Potter and Weasley. Whatever it was that she was up to this year, he decided to make it a little easier for her and put her directly in the path of one of the people he assumed would be top on her list of suspects for disorder. Certainly Malfoy of all people would be someone she would watch with suspicion. He was after all the Gryffindor Trio's enemy number one. Shockingly she seemed pleased to be paired up with him and deflected his disarming hex before she was even fully turned around. They matched each other hex for hex for the next minute or so and then old temptations kicked in. Snape sent a particularly strong stinging hex for her calf right above those stupid knee socks the girls wore so she would really feel it. There was no way she would know it didn't come from another student. But right at the moment it should have hit he could sense it hitting a shield. She turned around to look behind her really quickly, but that glance was all it took for Malfoy to hit her. It was curious though. She didn't get hit. Somehow, she had managed to nonverbally protect herself from behind. And he thought she only had room in her head for memorizing what was assigned to her. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.

A/N: Okay, so this fic is really just a spin on years six and seven of my own devising. If you read on, you can expect it to be a little out of character, a little anachronistic, haphazardly according to canon in parts, and definitely not meant to be anything but. My characters are always OOC, and it has been some time since I read the books so there are a lot of details I might use that actually happened at some other point in time, hence its anachronistic qualities. I wish I could promise regular updates, but I have been somewhat unreliable. Hope you can forgive me; work and school etc. have to come first. If enough people complain I won't post until I have the next bunch of chapters done. For those of you reading my other WIP Stealing from Thieves, I am putting that one ahead of this one because it did come first! I just had to get this out of my head before some of the ideas got mixed into it. I do not have a beta, and I am pretty consistent with not finding a lot of my own mistakes, but at least I am honest, right?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I own nothing

Hermione Undaunted

Chapter 2

Hermione was positively bursting with excitement over the news of Harry's most recent private lesson with Professor Dumbledore. Apparently they had gone into some of Dumbledore's memories about Voldemort's parents. Hermione added Marvolo Gaunt to her list of people that might be worth some research, and then hesitatingly crossed it off when a quick dig through archives in the library proved that he was nothing more than what Harry saw in the Pensieve. A poor, bigoted, washed out, Parseltongue with some serious hygiene issues. Merope was an unfortunate creature too, and Hermione kind of wished she could have gone into the Pensieve as well so she could see for herself how the events unfolded. The ring, however, was the piece of particular interest. Why would Dumbledore be looking for artifacts like that? What secrets did they hold? With any luck she would be able to help figure that out.

Hermione spent some of her time digging through archives for references to the Half-Blood Prince as well. Still nothing. And still Harry was positively dazzling in potions. She would have loved to have gotten her hands on that Felix Felicis, but more than anything she would have loved to have just gotten the potion right. Harry and Ron had this ridiculous notion that now they had free periods they would have tons of free time to relax, but Hermione dispelled it quickly and thanks to Harry's gift of the scheduler she was able to show them in plain black and white how quickly their work would pile up if they did not take advantage of every one of those free moments. Undaunted by Harry's remarks that he maybe should have gotten her book on relaxation spells instead; she pushed them to study because she was done helping them pass.

Harry was being particularly annoying because he did not think he had the wherewithal to run the Quidditch trials that were being held Saturday morning. Despite Hermione's consistent reminders of the truly courageous things he had already accomplished, Quidditch should be a piece of cake, but he could not be swayed and remained nervous. To add to it, they had yet to visit Hagrid. Hermione was beginning to regret not having signed up for one of his classes, but he really did not teach them anything of particular use in his lessons although the opportunities did not seem to stop presenting themselves. Like History of Magic, it was simply one subject she may as well teach herself. It was not as if Hagrid could legally get a hold of most of the creatures she would like to study anyway. However, Grawp was interesting, and she was kind of hoping that Hagrid would give her some private lessons on dangerous creatures. Of course he was bound to tell her no, but there was no way she would go alone to visit Grawp and she wanted to learn more. Maybe Hagrid would take her to visit him sometime since she knew the Fat Lady would actually have to learn to sing before Ron or Harry would go with her. In fact, they did very little for her at all and she often wondered why she bothered. Because they were her friends, and in some ways she felt like it was her mission in life to keep them alive.

Saturday morning started out with the usual reassurances that Harry would be able to handle the many people that signed up for Quidditch.

"They are just coming to see you, Harry," Hermione said. She also mentioned that Harry had grown and noted with satisfaction that Ron seemed offended she hadn't complimented him on his height too. Good, maybe he will learn to throw a few her way first then. When the mail arrived Hermione was extremely pleased to see that new Potions books had arrived for Ron and Harry, and then disappointed in equal measure to see that Harry was not going to return the old one. If only she could get her hands on it, but he never let it out of his sight. The real bombshell of the morning came with the Daily Prophet.

"Stan Shunpike is as much a Death Eater as I am, Ron," Hermione snapped when Ron mentioned that you never could tell who one was and who was not. She hoped she was not being too hasty with the comment, but it was clear Stan Shunpike's arrest was really worrying Harry. Besides, it was becoming natural to be argumentative with Ron whether she meant it or not. Especially considering Lavender was sitting nearby soaking her corn flakes with drool instead of milk. Things were really happening though. As misplaced as their arrest was, the Ministry was trying to make it look like they were really doing something to counteract Voldemort's faction, but Hermione was sure they were grasping at straws. There was the occasional Dementor attack, but other than Voldemort's side was eerily quiet and that really frightened Hermione.

Hermione promised Harry and Ron she would attend the Quidditch trials which she regretted almost immediately. Her time would have been much better spent traipsing about the school grounds trying to get as close to the warding as possible so she could try to feel it. Her books on warding said that a good warder can recognize when they are around too, and that is a skill many lack and Hermione was determined to have that skill. Hermione was not the only one who showed up to watch and it took Harry quite awhile to get rid of the people who were not serious about Quidditch. Lavender Brown was there with the rest of her giggling cohorts, and they spent the whole time giggling and waving at Ron, who responded by puffing out his chest and pretending to not look as nervous as he felt. Hermione could not help but examine Lavender closely to figure out what it was about girls like her that made boys pay attention. Was it the bounciness? The perkiness? The blondeness? Hermione decided it must be just her looks because she had nothing upstairs. She could see why Harry liked Ginny. Ginny was not only pretty, but she was good at Quidditch, funny, and talented with a wand. Hermione sighed in exasperation. Nobody wanted a girl with big brains and big hair, just big boobs.

"What's the matter, Granger? Feeling tense?"

Hermione was shocked out of her reverie to find Cormac McLaggen, a seventh year she had never really paid any attention to previously sitting dangerously close to her. He was decked out in complete Keeper regalia, but Hermione new already that his body was fit. Upon closer inspection she realized that he really was quite handsome with his blue eyes and sandy blonde hair with just a little bit of curl to it. Maybe there was more to purely physical attraction than she thought.

"I can think of a couple of different ways to relax if you know what I mean. After I bag this Keeper position, what do you say to meeting me under the bleachers?"

Maybe not. Cormac was cute, if trolls were cute. He reached out squeezed one of Hermione's shoulders.

"Perhaps you need a massage," he whispered in her ear.

Okay, so he smelled good too. He was cute, but boorish, and smelled quite nice. Hermione shrank away from him and the thought that he might be the one to make Ron jealous. It would not be fair to her to settle for someone just because they were attractive. Just then Ron made a particularly wild dive for the quaffle and spun full round on his broom and hit it away from the goal with his head. Lavender was screaming and jumping up and down, going on about how brilliant Ron was. Hermione knew he got it by accident, but that did not stop Ron's head from visibly swelling before her eyes. Ignoring McLaggen she also stood up and cheered Ron on.

McLaggen was not deterred. "Oh, it's Keepers you like, then. That Weasley lot has a lot to be desired. Just wait and see."

With that Cormac got up to take his turn. She was appalled. Without her having to say a word he went from interested in her to being rejected, to… Well, she really didn't know what happened; only that she was not at all impressed by him. Even though he was really cute.

True to his word, McLaggen was clearly much better at keeping than Ron. Hermione was not about to let an overblown, pompous, boor get Ron's position though. There are some things to be said for friendship, and some things to be done for it as well. Maybe, just maybe, if Hermione helped Ron, he would be happy even if he could never know what she did. Hermione glanced around her. The stands were relatively full, and quite noisy. In the distance she could see a few teachers on the ground watching as well. If anybody asked they would probably say they were there for the safety and well-being of the students over any vested interest in the outcome of the trials. Particularly Snape and McGonagall. Well, Hermione was never one to shy away from breaking the school rules no matter how pious she liked to pretend she was. Just as McLaggen was about to make a particularly good save on one of Ginny's fast quaffle throws Hermione silently cast a Confundus Charm, and he missed it by a mile.

Oops, Hermione thought. Maybe that was a tad on the obvious side, but no one seemed to be paying attention to her so she should be safe. Even if someone put two and two together they would never know who did it. Besides, everyone was on the ground watching the heated argument taking place between Harry, Ron, and McLaggen. Everyone except Snape, that is. He was scanning the stands and once again, Hermione found herself making eye contact with him. She quickly jumped out of her seat to go meet her friends on the ground, and when she looked for Snape again, he was gone. There was no way he could have seen what she did.

Hermione felt significantly better when she got on the ground. If Cormac was going to be such a spoil sport she saved the team from having to put up with him. Harry and Ron both seemed to agree, and everyone was in good spirits as they made their way to Hagrid's hut. Hermione was happily humoring Ron as he recounted in detail the entire trial including McLaggen shooting off in the wrong direction. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks when he mentioned it and Harry gave her a look that clearly said he knew what she'd done. Ron noticed nothing.

Buckbeak was the first to greet them at Hagrid's cabin. He still frightened her somewhat and it only reaffirmed her desire to learn more about magical creatures. She had to master her fears. To make matters worse, when Hagrid came round the corner and saw who was near his hippogriff he stormed right past them, went inside and slammed the door.

As it happened, Hagrid was more than just upset about not having any students. One of his beloved magical creatures was old and dying. They did what they could to comfort him and convince him that it was really impossible to fit his class into their regular schedules. For Hermione it was actually true, and she planned to use that to her advantage. It was very near dinner time when they were finally ready to leave, but she sent Harry and Ron ahead of her promising to catch up.

"Hagrid," Hermione said when they were safely out the door. "I really couldn't fit your class into my timetable this year, but there is still a lot about magical creatures I want to learn. Particularly the dangerous ones."

"Most creatures aren't dangerous, Hermione, just misunderstood," Hagrid corrected, but he still had a hopeful look in his eyes.

Hermione tried to look as sheepish as possible. It always seemed to work for Harry. "I was kind of hoping that maybe you would be willing to take the time to give me some private lessons this year? You could teach me about things that would not be sanctioned in a regular class since it would be just you and me talking."

Hagrid's chest swelled and she could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He patted her shoulder with a big hand and her knees buckled. He reached down and picked her up.

"Sorry about that, Hermione." He pretended to ponder her request. "Okay, I'll teach ya, but under one condition."

"What condition?"

"You'll do as I say, and you won't tell a soul. I could get in a lot of trouble teaching ya these things, but in light of the war, and since I know how much you love to learn I will help you out. We can start with Aragog. I will send you an owl with our firs' lesson on it. Now be gone with you before it gets dark." Hagrid said in a much more cheerful mood than when they had arrived.

Hermione could see Harry and Ron up ahead and if she ran she could easily catch up. She was about halfway to them when a dark figure stepped out of the shadow of a large willow tree next to her.

"Detention, Granger, for cheating," Professor Snape drawled in the way only he can.

Hermione bit back a scream and then a retort. "Professor!" was all she managed.

"Be lucky it is not worse, Granger. Cheating is punishable by expulsion, after all." The nasty sneer he had on his face said that he wouldn't give two seconds worth of thought to having her shipped off if he had the option.

Hermione figured her best defense was to act like she had no clue what he was talking about. "Cheating, sir?"

"Detention. Tomorrow." With that he walked off the way he came disappearing into the shadows of the beech tree once more.

Hermione ran to catch up with Ron and Harry and tried to act as if nothing had happened. Snape couldn't prove anything. If detention was all he had in mind, then she would do it, no matter how horrible it was. Especially if it meant that he did not tell McGonagall. Harry had a detention with Snape that very night. Maybe whatever fate he had in store for Harry he would save some for her the next day. At least that way she could be prepared.

Once in the Great Hall, after Harry chastised her for the Confundus Charm, Slughorn cornered them all to invite them to supper in his rooms. Of course Harry was able to skive off because of his detention, but Hermione could not reasonably say no. That meant an evening with Cormac. Ron seemed really put out that Slughorn still had not acknowledged him, nor gotten his name right, and that just made Hermione feel worse.

After their lunch they gathered in the common room. Ron was still seething about Slughorn.

"Ginny will be at the party too, I'm sure," he grumbled when Hermione complained that Harry wouldn't be coming.

Hermione shrugged and pulled out her newest edition of the Daily Prophet. "There's been a raid on the Malfoy mansion again!"

"I'm the one who told Mr. Weasley about that," Harry said. "Maybe if Malfoy was hiding the something he got at Borgin and Burkes he brought it here."

Hermione thought back to the day the followed Malfoy to Knockturn Alley to spy on him.

"No, Harry. We were all inspected by Filch, there is no way he got anything in. Besides, I am pretty sure he left the place empty handed."

Harry looked hopefully at Ron for support, but Ron was pouting and staring at Lavender Brown. He snapped at Harry, and Hermione felt a little less sympathetic about Ron not getting invited into the Slug Club as well. He would be free to stare at Lavender Brown all night if he wanted to. Instead he went to bed, which gave Hermione a little bit of twisted satisfaction. Why did she care so much?

"I have to sort flobberworms for detention," Harry mentioned as they left the common room together, each off to their separate dooms.

"Ew. Maybe I will have to do something equally gross tomorrow," Hermione replied.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed. "Snape. He caught me coming out of Hagrid's before I could catch up with you two and gave me detention for cheating."

"Cheating? That's insa-, hang on, did he see you confound McLaggen?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I assume so, but he as to prove it first," she said haughtily.

"Hermione, it will be easy to do with Priori Incantatem," Harry replied.

"Ohh," Hermione groaned. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"You're better off doing what he says and praying he doesn't go to McGonagall about it," Harry said before bidding her goodbye at Slughorn's doors.

Hermione waved at his retreating back for a few moments before going in. Slughorn greeted her enthusiastically when she knocked and she was happy to see that Ginny was there already. Unfortunately so was McLaggen. Hermione made a beeline for Ginny in hopes that it would deter Cormac since he was less than fond of the Weasley's at the moment.

"Hi Ginny," Hermione said. She noted that Ginny was wearing makeup and that her sleek red hair was curled and pinned back. She really was pretty. How did she do it so subtly? If Hermione wore makeup the whole world would collapse in on itself in shock. No one even recognized her at the Yule Ball.

"Hello," she replied. "Can you believe this?"

Ginny gestured to the spread on the table and the students milling about trying to avoid Slughorn lest they be regaled with tales of students past that became rich, influential, and famous.

"I know," Hermione said. "It's mad. How's Dean?"

"Dean's good," she shrugged. "He is fun for passing the time."

Hermione looked at Ginny closely. One of the Ravenclaw boys there was looking at her too. "He is fun for passing the time until someone you really like comes along you mean?"

Of course Hermione meant Harry and Ginny knew it.

"Something like that," she said smiling a little at the Ravenclaw boy. Hermione could not remember his name.

"How do you do it? I mean, how can you be someone's girlfriend if you don't even really like them?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shrugged again. "It's not like I don't like Dean because I do. He is just cute and fun and I can't wait forever for Harry, you know. I have to get his attention somehow."

Hermione glanced over at Cormac. He would definitely annoy Ron the most. He would probably annoy her most too, but it might work. Maybe that was what being young was all about. Maybe she should try to play the field. Why it was that it was Cormac that had to notice her though? They had nothing in common as far as she knew.

"Ginny, I need your help," Hermione blurted.

"Sure, what?" she asked following her gaze to Cormac who had just winked at Hermione. "Want me to help get rid of him for you? I mean he is cute, but what a git."

"Not necessarily, I'd kind of like to keep him on a string. I need help in a different way. Can you help me with girlie stuff? Like hair, makeup, clothes? Maybe let me borrow some of your Witch Weekly magazines?" Hermione asked feeling the blush spread to the roots of her hair.

"Oh, Hermione!" Ginny squealed. "Finally, we get to do the kinds of things I always wanted a sister for!"

Hermione grimaced as Ginny hugging her laughing and jumping up and down.

"This is going to be fun. Finally, the world is going to see how hot you really are!"

"We'll see," Hermione mumbled wishing she had just sneaked the magazines like she had originally planned instead.

Thankfully she didn't sit next to Cormac at supper, but she did sit across from him. He made eye contact with her all night long, and made a big show of licking his fingers after dessert. Hermione was shocked, not just at the display, but at the little bit of heat that rose in her. She did not like him at all, but the physical feelings were there all the same. She kept thinking about how he smelled, like sandalwood. It was different than Ron's smell of fresh cut grass and toothpaste, but it was definitely nice. She had a thing for how men smelled apparently. Yes, even if she didn't like him, Cormac would do in a pinch if she needed him. She smiled back at him what she hoped was a genuine looking smile. His answering grin said she'd succeeded.

Severus was ninety-nine point nine percent sure Hermione Granger confounded McLaggen at the Quidditch trial. He planned to enjoy every moment of making her regret it. Potter had managed to sort out every flobberworm quite satisfactorily and he did not want to risk damaging more by mixing them back up again. Instead he found something better. There was a Boggart in the old cupboard he had in his storeroom and he was going to make Hermione get rid of it. Just because he didn't teach potions in the dungeons anymore didn't mean he wasn't able to keep his stores and still brew them. Boggarts were a nuisance and easy to get rid of, but rumor had it that was a skill Granger never actually learned.

Snape summoned Hermione out of the library shortly after seeing her going in. She would be particularly displeased to be pulled right out of her studies and the exasperated, yet slightly fearful, look on her face when she arrived was a pleasure to see.

"Cheating, Granger," Snape drawled after she sat down, "is punishable by expulsion according to School Bylaw Article 43, chapter 82, section 4b. You cast a Confundus Charm on Cormac McLaggen during a Quidditch trial, did you not?"

Hermione was not sure whether she should answer him. Harry's reminder of Priori Incantatem played out in her head so she knew she should not deny it, but she did not know if she should admit it either. Instead she decided on evasion.

"The crowd was large and the players were excitable. It was an honest mistake McLaggen made." Hermione shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. She probably just made things worse.

Snape was more than a little pleased that she did not cave and confess. How many other things was she hiding in that big head of hers?

"Give me your wand," he demanded holding out a hand.

Hermione hesitated, but decided compliance was the wisest course of action. She slowly handed her wand to him hilt first.

Professor Snape touched the tip of his wand to hers and whispered "Priori Incantatem."

Several spells lifted out of her wand one at a time. Thankfully she had not practiced any of her warding spells the day before. A few levitation spells and scourgify were all that she had done, and then the Confundus ghosted out of her wand.

"The proof," Snape said in a honeyed tone. "Is in the pudding, is it not Miss Granger?"

He handed Hermione her wand back and she slipped up her sleeve. The move did not go unnoticed by Snape. Not many students felt it necessary to keep their wands so readily available. She proved over again that she was not stupid, but could she get rid of a Boggart?

"Do you know why I am only giving you a detention for breaking such an important school rule?"

"No, Professor," Hermione said. She was truly unaware.

"Because, Miss Granger," he said leaning forward and placing his hands on the sides of her desk. She got a whiff of nutmeg, white pepper, cedar, and strangely something like violets. Why was she noticing smells? Especially Snape's? Who smelled really good. Snape noticed her take a deep fearful breath before he continued. "You did Slytherin a favor by putting Weasley in the Keeper spot. McLaggen is the far superior player, but now my team has a solid chance of winning the House Cup."

"Professor!" Hermione said outraged. "Ron is not that bad. He just needs a confidence boost is all."

Snape waved a hand dismissing her comment. "We shall see. In the meantime you have a detention to serve and I have a boggart in my cupboard."

Hermione paled visibly and Snape had to keep his glee in check. There was nothing he relished more than the extreme discomfort of a student, and an opportunity to teach. He wondered if the girl's greatest fear was still failing her classes. He could not wait to see.

"A boggart, sir?" Hermione asked.

"A boggart, Granger," Snape snapped leading her to the cupboard in his store room. "This is third year level defensive magic. Surely someone as extraordinarily talented as you would have no trouble whatsoever dispensing with such a silly nuisance."

"Yes sir," Hermione said meekly. She faced the cabinet and pulled her wand out of her sleeve. What was she truly afraid of? It was not of failing her classes anymore, she knew that much at least. What she was really afraid of was not being able to protect those she cared about from the wrath of Voldemort. She was terrified of a future where people like her, Muggle-borns, would not be able to do magic. How would a Boggart show that? And how could she possibly make it funny?

"Ready?" Snape asked at the same time as he opened the door.

The boggart felt like nothing but a rush of air until it materialized into Voldemort standing over her holding her wand above her head. She kept reaching for it and he would jerk it away. The boggart Voldemort taunted her. "Mudbloods don't have the right do magic, now do they, little girl? What's the matter, can't reach your wand? Whatever made you think you were good enough to even try?" And then it pointed her own wand at her ready to curse. Snape clearly thought it was funny, but Hermione was having difficulty imagining the situation in anything but the humiliating situation it was.

"Riddikulus!" she yelled imagining Voldemort with the jelly legs jinx. Voldemort slipped, but it was not good enough. "Riddikulus!" she screamed again. Nothing. Tears were falling unheeded down her cheeks.

"Ridiculous," Snape said in her ear sarcastically before pushing the boggart back in the cupboard with his wand and shutting it. He was careful not to get in front of Hermione.

Hermione took a deep breath and quickly wiped at the tears she did not realize had fallen. She was humiliated.

"Fear, Granger, is something your classmates learned to master in the third year," Snape said. Of course he knew it wasn't true. He was simply hitting where it hurt. Her fear was legitimate, even to be admired considering the war on the horizon. It meant that she understood what was at stake for her and people like her. "Even Potter and Weasley managed it. Tsk tsk."

"Professor," Hermione said keeping her voice impressively even for how shaky she felt. "I can see how that would be amusing to you, but I have a difficult time finding the humor in it."

"It's quite simple, Granger," he said. "Maybe too simple for someone like you. However, you seem to always have something up your sleeve."

Snape dragged the last three words out slowly as if to leave an impression. And they did.

"Are you ready? I want this boggart out and it is your happy chore to do it. I don't have all day," he said.

Hermione was thinking about what he said and she slipped her wand out of her sleeve where she automatically slid it when it wasn't in use. That was when his words hit her. She'd barely nodded when he opened the door again.

This time as the Voldemort boggart taunted her she knew exactly would make it funny.

Hermione took a deep breath and yelled "Riddikulus!"

The boggart Hermione slipped a wand out of its sleeve and cast an impressive bat bogey hex right on Voldemort's face. Great flapping bogeys flew out of his nose and made disgusting slapping and sucking sounds as they flew around his face. Hermione laughed and so did Snape. The boggart cracked and disappeared.

Hermione quieted as soon as it was gone. She'd done it, but he'd helped her. Why did he help her?

"Third time's the charm, I guess," she mumbled under her breath.

"Excuse me?" Snape demanded.

"The first time I faced a boggart was in my OWL exam and I failed. The second time just now, I failed again. With your help, I managed it a third time-"

"I am familiar with the expression, Granger," Snape said cutting her off. "Now look inside the cupboard."

Hermione did. It was full of broken quills, mice droppings, and the other detritus of a potions storeroom junk. In other words, it was filthy and gross. Snape summoned a bucket with soapy water and a rag.

"Have fun," he said. "You can leave your wand on the table."

Snape left Hermione and went to his desk to grade essays. He should have let her leave with her dignity intact, but that was not his style. He really thought he was going to see McGonagall telling her she'd failed like he heard had happened at the end of her fifth year. He was actually impressed to see that her fears had matured just as much as she had. He sifted through the pile of essays and found her latest one on the properties of defensive shields. It was well written of course. She cited the text several times, but he was also pleased to see that she had read another text that was in disagreement and cited it as well. Her handwriting was small, but that was natural and not a ploy to fit more in. He pulled out his ruler and measured, exactly twelve inches. She was finally learning how to follow instructions. Now he just needed to help her figure out what to do when she had no instructions to follow, and not a lot of time to think about it.

Hermione scrubbed at the cabinet for the next hour until the wood shone. She wanted to ask why he had given her such an obvious hint to get rid of the boggart. Was it because he knew that she would still see it as a failure because she did not figure it out on her own? Probably. She never did get the chance to ask though because he shooed her out when she was done without a word.

A/N: Okay, here is another long delayed chapter. Fortunately, my schedule right now is such that I should be able to spend more time writing. At least for the next few weeks. I plan to update this story and my other Stealing from Thieves as much as possible. Like I mentioned in chapter one, this story is anachronistic for the parts that follow canon. An observant reader would have noticed that I switched the order in which Ron and McLaggen tried out for keeper. If you didn't notice, that's good, because I will make a lot of little changes like that. I have a horrible eye for finding my own mistakes. I have a very good grasp of grammar even if I choose not to employ it in my writing, but I am crap at commas. I would like a beta if anyone is interested. I will feel more compelled to keep the chapters coming if I have one too. Your reviews are wonderful and I really appreciate them. Please leave one! Constructive criticism is welcome as long as it is not a technical error like a typo, like I said, I need a beta. You can beat me up for that kind of stuff after I get a beta and then if it still there then we both missed it and we kind of deserve for it be pointed out! Don't forget my characters are OOC! I have tried to write them exactly as I envision them from the book and for Severus/Hermione stories I just can't do it. Thanks again and please review!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Hermione Undaunted

Chapter 3

The next couple of weeks proved to be rather uneventful. Dumbledore was still missing from most meals, and Harry was constantly complaining that he'd only seen the Headmaster in the school twice. Hermione tried to assuage Harry's fears that Dumbledore was going to leave Harry out of some big plan, but it was to no avail. She was more worried about the amount of time Harry spent poring through the pages of his potion's book. She'd tried to get it from him a couple of times, but she imagined he would rather strip and hand over his clothes than the book if he found himself in a pinch. Even Ron had started muttering about the relationship he was having with the book; complaining that he was starting to resemble Hermione, reading in bed and all that.

Hermione kept on the front that Harry should not be using any of the charms he found in the book. She went so far as to refuse to speak if he used the Muffliato charm which suited him just fine. Secretly she was memorizing the hexes herself. They could be quite funny, yes, but they were also created by a clearly clever mind that could very well be deranged. She refused to believe that the Half-Blood Prince was merely a clever prankster like Fred and George were. There was something very serious about the nature of the scribbles in the book that she found oddly frustrating. It was as if they were familiar to her. The spiky handwriting resembled handwriting that she'd seen somewhere else.

"You know, Harry," Hermione reprimanded over breakfast. "If you would spend as much time concentrating on nonverbal spells for class instead of the ones in the book your grades would improve significantly."

"Stuff it, Hermione," Ron said. He was agitated because Hermione had already spent the better part of the walk to the Great Hall pointing out how dangerous it was to try an unknown spell on a person. Harry was just upset that he knew the Half-Blood Prince probably was not his father, and that Hermione's assertion that he could very well be a Death-Eater was all too possible.

After breakfast the trio trudged through the wind and sleet to Hogsmeade. Harry was surly because Ginny had brushed off an invitation to join them to go with Dean. Hermione could not help but notice that every time Ginny waved him off, Harry's longing for her appeared to grow. Hermione had spent the last few dinners with Slughorn at least engaging Cormac in some sort of conversation. He was still a bossy prat, but then again, bossy bint was a name she was quite familiar with too. His grades in school were good, but he was way too full of himself for Hermione to really like him. He was no challenge whatsoever. She still had yet to figure out what he saw in her, but she could learn a lot by taking advantage of it. Ron was a challenge in a different way because he seemed to find offense to anything she said or did that was not favorable to him, but he only had eyes for Lavender Brown. Hermione wanted someone who would challenge her, physically and intellectually, and realistically she knew that neither Ron nor Cormac fit the bill but her insufferable teenage hormones were not cooperating with her head.

Slughorn's parties were not all bad though. The food was good and sometimes there was entertainment. It gave her and Ginny a lot of cover to talk about all things feminine without any eavesdroppers because there was always plenty of mingling. She even let Cormac throw an arm around her a couple of times and she didn't seem to mind as much as she thought she would when it happened. Hermione had begged Ginny to not let on to anyone that she was leading Cormac on. Partly because she knew it was not really nice, and partly because she wasn't ready to use it on Ron yet.

Needless to say, they ran into Slughorn at Honeydukes where he invited them to yet another Slug Club party. Harry was able to wriggle out of it because he had a meeting with Dumbledore on Monday night, but Hermione had nothing. Ron was seething because once again he had been ignored. Hermione pretended to be interested in the new sugar quills on display, but the truth was she hadn't touched any of the candy he had given her for her birthday and had already relinquished all the chocolate frogs back to Ron.

After their hands were loaded with more sweets from Honeydukes than they really should reasonably have the made their way through the crowd to go to the Three Broomsticks for a butter beer. Outside of Honeydukes the crowd was sparser. However, there was one man outside and in no particular hurry that all three of them recognized.

"Mundungus!" Harry approached the man upon recognition and bent to help him pick up the things he dropped out of his suitcase when Harry startled him by yelling his name. Scattered on the ground was silver with the Black family crest on it. Silver that now belonged to Harry.

The next thing Hermione knew Harry had Mundungus Fletcher pinned to the wall of the nearest building by the throat. Harry really was frightening sometimes and impressive. Hermione wondered why she never really liked him that way and then quelled the thought immediately. Ew. He was like her brother, and besides, how was she ever going to concentrate on the impending war with thoughts like that constantly popping up in her head?

Hermione had just started pleading with Harry to let Mundungus go when he Disapparated leaving Harry empty handed and scathing. Hermione quite agreed that Mundungus was a stink thief, but there was nothing they could do about it at the moment. Even Tonks, who had appeared out of nowhere didn't think it was worth getting into a brawl about. She shooed them into the Three Broomsticks.

"What's gotten in to her?" Ron muttered.

Hermione shrugged, but she wondered too. Harry thought she was sad about Sirius' death, but Hermione was sure it was something else. They weren't even that close even if they were cousins. Harry was still shouting about Mundungus when Hermione brought three butter beers to their table.

Ron made a rather disgusting display of checking out Madam Rosmerta behind the bar and Harry continued to fume. The trip was rather ruined for all of them. Hermione was wondering how she could give them the slip and go to Gladrags unnoticed. She excused herself to go to the bathroom and bumped into Draco Malfoy and Katie Bell in the little hallway that held the toilets. If Hermione didn't know any better she would guess that it looked like Malfoy had come out of the girl's room and she glared at him suspiciously.

"Get out of the way, Mudblood," he snapped at her and pushed his way along. Katie didn't even pause when Hermione went through she just kept on walking which was slightly odd.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Hermione replied and went into the bathroom. There was nothing odd about running into fellow students near the Three Broomsticks bathrooms on a Hogsmeade visit day. Hermione gave up on Gladrags and joined her friends outside so they could leave.

It was on the way home that Katie Bell got cursed by the necklace. Harry claimed it was a necklace he saw in Borgin and Burkes and that Malfoy knew all about it. Hermione tried to shush Harry up about the accusation it was Malfoy, but inside she was becoming increasingly suspicious. She would never be as hasty as Harry and flat out accuse a student like that, which is exactly what Harry said to Professor McGonagall. He told her everything about Malfoy's suspicious behavior related to Borgin and Burkes. The real shocking thing was that McGonagall insisted that Malfoy wasn't even in Hogsmeade because he had detention with her! She had definitely seen him there and now things were really beginning to get strange. Uncharacteristically however, Hermione kept the information to herself until she decided what to do with it. Until she decided who she wanted to tell. In the meantime she figured it would be dangerous to tell Harry.

Snape had more reason than anyone to believe Harry Potter about Malfoy, but he could not say one word to defend the boy. For once, he really wished he could. If only Draco would stop being angry with him and let him help him in his mission. Dumbledore would be dead without him having to be implicating and both of his Unbreakable Vows would be fulfilled. Dumbledore was irritatingly nonchalant about his impending demise and more worried about Draco hurting another student than anything else. It was all very noble, but not satisfying. To make matters worse, Dumbledore seemed to be on a mission to find the darkest artifacts he possibly could. He was extremely secretive about his missions, but if he returned with one more item as deadly as the ring was, Dumbledore might solve everyone's problems and off himself.

Snape filled his glass of whiskey and settled deeper into his desk chair. He was supposed to be grading papers, but he knew he was going to be summoned soon, and the alcohol would take the edge off. Two fingers for relaxation, nothing more. He could not risk even one shred of mental faculties being out of form for his performance with Voldemort.

Snape pondered his predicament as objectively as possible. Help Draco succeed to save himself from Narcissa's vow, or kill the man himself to save him from Dumbledore's. Either way he would be sufficient to keep him alive, but the costs were so great he could barely breathe when he thought about it. It was all just a horrible game. It was an unending waking nightmare that only his death would end the torment. He was the only one with a choice. He could choose a side and stop spying and find a way to survive this, but it was a choice he knew he could not make. He was so fed up with being a bully. He didn't have the energy anymore. He wanted to help Draco and renew the boy's trust him. He even wanted to help Potter. Whenever he looked into Potter's eyes and saw his mother behind all the pain he wanted to help him even more. Dumbledore had a plan for Harry Potter, that much he knew, but what was it? Beyond the prophecy claiming that Harry must defeat Voldemort, what else was there? What did that man know? And why wouldn't he tell him. Severus knew the answer to that. Because if he had the information and Voldemort pulled it out of his head, it would mean certain death for him. Being a spy meant he was only allowed to know so much. He belonged in a grey purgatory between both worlds, neither wanted nor fully accepted in either.

Snape felt the mark on his arm burn. He swallowed the liquor and set the glass on his desk. Carefully he pulled his mask on his face and used the floo from his office into his house on Spinner's End. He took a momentarily glance of his old and familiar living room before touching his wand to his arm and answering the summons. It would do no good to delay.

Severus arrived inside the large formal dining room of Malfoy Manor were Voldemort liked to hold court on most days. Narcissa was sitting at one end of the table with her sister. Wormtail was cowering in a corner and Voldemort sat on the other end of the table with Nagini wrapped around his shoulders. He was stroking her and whispering to her in Parseltongue. Severus had a brief thought of preparing antivenin and then quickly killed the thought. He could not let something like that become privy to Voldemort when he began his inevitable snoop through his mind.

Snape strode quickly to Voldemort and dropped to his knees in supplication.

"My Lord," he said to the man's distinctly ugly feet.

"Rise, Severus," Voldemort in a sibilant tone barely discernible from the Parseltongue he was using with Nagini. "This visit will be brief."

"My Lord," Severus repeated as he stood up. He cleared his mind of all but a few thoughts that would keep Voldemort satisfied, but this time it was not necessary.

"Rumor has it, my boy that Draco Malfoy made a foolish and weak attempt on Dumbledore's life today." Voldemort continued to stroke Nagini. "Do you think the boy will succeed, Severus?"

"I have confidence his future attempts will prove less foolhardy," Severus replied tactfully.

Voldemort glared at Snape with his snake like eyes. He instantly put up his mental shields, but the probing was very mild. Indeed, Snape was telling the absolute truth because if he had anything to do with it, Draco would not make another obvious attempt again.

"It has been brought to my attention that if Draco does not succeed, you have agreed to take on the happy task for him," Voldemort snapped out.

Severus risked a glance at Bellatrix and Narcissa. Narcissa looked terrified, Bellatrix gleeful. _That bitch sold me out,_ Severus thought and then squashed it, but too late. Voldemort reached out and without actually touching his skin enclosed his long cold fingers in a pincer grasp around Snape's throat.

"Why did you keep the secret from me? We are not supposed to have any secrets now, are we?"

Naturally Snape could not answer. His lungs burned for lack of air and the skin on his throat felt like it was shredding under Voldemort's grasp. He feared his windpipe was within an inch from being crushed. As suddenly as he took hold, Voldemort released. Snape tried to maintain his composure as his lungs expanded too quickly and caused him to cough violently.

"My Lord," he sputtered. "I wanted you to have confidence in him."

"Is that so? Then you have not helped him at all?" With that Voldemort delved deeply and painfully into his mind. Images of mundane happenings around Hogwarts flipped through his head. Voldemort paused twice, once to note Dumbledore's increasing absence, and another to view Hermione Granger battling the boggart. The rest, Snape managed to keep under his shields. Voldemort still had not discovered that Dumbledore had a curse blackened arm. Dumbledore was especially insistent that Snape not reveal that information. If Voldemort were to discover it, it would have to be by someone else.

"I see that you are telling the truth." Voldemort stood and began to pace the length of the table. Nagini coiled herself in a pile on the chair Voldemort vacated and watched her master pace with rapt attention. "Dumbledore tells you nothing of his disappearances either."

The last was a statement.

"Who was that girl? I did not see her face. The one who fought a boggart that looked like me. I was taunting her. Who is she? Why does she fear me?" Voldemort asked. His curiosity was genuinely piqued and Snape could tell.

He swallowed thickly and resisted wincing at the pain in his throat. Whatever he said next could place Hermione Granger in considerable danger.

"She is Hermione Granger," Snape said quietly. The pain in his throat masked the hesitation he had in saying the name aloud.

Voldemort smiled. "Ah yes, Harry Potter's Mudblood girlfriend. She should fear me. How very wise of her. Clearly she knows me not at all if she believes that taunting is all I do."

Voldemort casually flicked his wand and Pettigrew screamed from his corner. Snape did not feel the need to point out that in boggart form he was indeed planning to strike.

"Is she useful to Potter?" Voldemort asked.

_Extremely, _thought Snape, but that would be a dangerous thing to say out loud, instead he said. "She helps him cheat on his homework. She is the top of her year."

Voldemort shook his head in mock sadness. "Pity then she is a Mudblood and I will have to dispose of her. I do admire ambition of any sort. Why was she facing a boggart in your presence?"

"She was in detention cleaning out my cupboard," I answered.

"For?" Voldemort queried.

"Cheating," Snape replied simply. "She cast a Confundus charm on a player during a Quidditch trial to cause him to make a mistake."

"I like her more and more," Voldemort scraped out a dry high pitched laugh. "Tell me Severus, did she succeed against the boggart?"

Severus could feel his Adam's apple working in his searing throat. "Yes, my Lord."

"Let me see," Voldemort said and he delved back in Snape's mind. Snape brought the memory forth from the point the boggart Hermione pulled the wand out of her sleeve and cast the hex.

Voldemort looked angry. "Am I that laughable?"

Snape said nothing.

"I said, am I that laughable?" The next thing Snape knew he was writhing on the ground in agony.

"No, my Lord!" he managed to scream.

The pain stopped and Voldemort returned to his seat. Nagini slid from the chair to his shoulders to make room.

"Perhaps we will have to do something to make the girl find me less funny." Voldemort said to no one in the room, but Bellatrix cackled audibly in response.

"In the meantime, maybe she would benefit from a few detentions that are less, shall we say, easy. Draco is to do his chore on his own. You may go." Voldemort dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Once Snape was back at Spinner's End he immediately prepared a poultice and applied it to his throat. It was late, but the swelling and bruising would be gone by morning. The poultice was still in place when Severus arrived in Dumbledore's office to make his report. He gave the report in detail taking down three fingers of whiskey and a pain potion as he did so.

"His interest in Granger is not inconsequential, but not a priority either. As long as she stays near Potter it will not be difficult to keep her safe," Dumbledore commented. "Although she would make good bait, and we cannot let that happen."

"Agreed," Snape replied. "How exactly, do you plan to keep that from happening?"

"Not me," Dumbledore replied carefully flexing his blackened hand. "You."

Snape shook his head. "I have enough to do already babysitting Draco and Potter. I don't have time for that brat too."

"She is hardly a brat, Severus," Dumbledore chided. "She is a prefect, a top student, of age, and most importantly one of the very reasons Harry is still alive. Her role in this war is quite central to its outcome, but I will tell you more of that later. For now get some rest. You clearly need it, and so do I."

"That is all then?" Snape demanded. He wanted more answers, more information. He told Dumbledore everything, and got nothing in return but more duty.

"Well, I believe you have detentions to figure out. I have it on good authority that Miss Granger has been visiting Hagrid lately studying dangerous magical creatures and helping him nurse his dying Acromantula, and visiting his giant brother. Perhaps you could find some fault with that, particularly if she were to be caught out after dark," Dumbledore supplied in what Snape imagined was supposed to be a helpful tone, but it came out as condescending instead.

"I'm sure I can find a multitude of reasons to give Granger detention Headmaster, but thank you for the suggestion," Snape replied snidely and strode out of the room.

Snape walked through the halls of the castle absorbing its sentience and enjoying the hollow clicking his boot heels made in the otherwise silent halls. He passed a seventh year Slytherin prefect on rounds near the dungeons but that was all. He loved the castle for it had been a special kind of home to him, but if the job was cursed and this year was to be his last in the beloved halls, he would not be sorry to see them go. It would be like saying to goodbye to a dying lover after a long and tragic affair. Bittersweet. Lonely and painful, but a relief to be free.

**A/N: Here is another chapter! And so soon! I plan to do my best to update regularly. I really am trying! I am not a fisher for reviews, but they do help prompt me to write more often because then I know people are really interested. We are slipping a little bit more away from canon here, then it will float back, etc. I can get my page breaks to work anymore, help!**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Hermione Undaunted

Chapter 4

Snape scratched a big red spiky 'D' across the top of her latest essay and wrote "See me" underneath. Just as he had predicted he did not need help from Dumbledore in finding ways to put Granger in detention. On Weasley's essay he wrote a large 'O' across the top. It was quite obvious that Granger had done Weasley's essay for him and he decided to give him the grade she would have earned on her own if, once again, she had refrained from helping her friends cheat. In turn, he gave her the grade Weasley would have earned on his own. He could not think of anything that get her hackles up worse than seeing Weasley get an 'O' on that paper and a 'D' on hers. He would make damn sure she saw it.

Hermione rather enjoyed Herbology. She didn't quite have the love for it that Neville did, and would probably kill any number of plants left in her care for lack of attention to them, but she did enjoy learning about them and what practical purposes they had in everyday life. She particularly liked learning about their uses in potions and since her mission for the year was to use every opportunity as an opportunity to protect her and her friends from getting hurt in the war she was remaining as vigilant as ever. A small garden snake was weaving its way through the roots of her snargaluff plant and she mindlessly plucked it out.

Hermione's vigilance had waned somewhat when Ron got upset about the stupid Slug Club once again. She was about to ask him to go with her, but instead he got angry about her hooking up with McLaggen, which she just may do. _In fact, _she thought vehemently as she stabbed at her snargaluff pod, _that is exactly what I will do. _Unless of course Ron softened and went her with instead. The snake she'd plucked out earlier snuck back into her plant's pot and she had a sudden burst of inspiration.

"Harry," she said. "Do you think Voldemort still has the snake?"

Harry looked at her curiously. "I reckon so. She seemed like his familiar or something. Why?"

"No reason," Hermione murmured as she mentally added another library book she needed to find to her list.

"You have to a reason, Hermione," Ron retorted. "You can't just keep bringing stuff up and then leaving us in the dark about it."

Hermione considered his words. She did do that a lot. As they were gathering up their things to leave she explained herself.

"Well, you know how Harry is learning about Voldemort—," Ron hissed at the name, "and his past and everything, I was thinking we should be thinking of every possible avenue of protection for ourselves based on what we currently know about him. We already know he uses the snake as a weapon so-"

Ron interrupted again, "So what? We find him, take it, and kill it? Come off it, Hermione."

"No," Hermione replied in exasperation. "We prepare an antidote to the bite just in case one of us gets attacked."

"That's not likely," Ron muttered.

"Really, Ron? Care to ask your father how likely it is?" Hermione snapped. "What do you think, Harry?"

"Couldn't hurt." He shrugged.

Ron harrumphed in response. Hermione decided she would press Mr. Weasley for details about the antidote herself if she could not find enough information on her own. She was sure some of the information she needed was in the restricted section somewhere and it would be easy to get a not signed by Slughorn.

"Looks like Katie's not going to be coming back anytime soon," Harry commented when they saw her still missing from the Great Hall at lunch.

"I know. It is so sad," Hermione said.

Ron plucked his bag on the floor at his feet and started reaching for the chicken. He took a mouthful before he said, "I know. Means we're going to have somebody else be a chaser at the Quidditch match. There isn't a whole of time to train someone new."

Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust. Her appetite for lunch was thoroughly killed so she grabbed her things and left for the library. Her disgust extended from Ron to herself. What was it she saw in him again? She didn't want to like him anymore, but she just couldn't help it. He did have some redeeming qualities even if she could not think of any at the moment.

Inside the library Hermione hunted down several books on venomous creatures and their antidotes. She was particularly absorbed in a chapter on building immunities to certain venoms when she felt an ominous presence behind her. Sure enough, when she looked Professor Snape was sweeping through the library. He stopped to speak with Madam Pince near the restricted section. That man made an incredible impression on her. Briefly she thought about his smell, of violets, pepper, and cedar, and sandalwood. Wait, sandalwood? No, that was Cormac who was…

"He is a bit intimidating," Cormac said slipping into the seat next to Hermione. He reached out and twirled a bit of her hair around his finger. She leaned back just enough to pull the lock free.

Hermione shrugged and glanced at Snape again. He looked right back at her as if he had some sort of cosmic connection that allowed him to know when her eyes were on him even if it was only momentarily. "He is certainly complicated."

"I think it is all a big act, the tough guy thing. I bet underneath all that greasy hair he is just a normal bloke who got picked on as a kid so he bullies the students he has now to make up for it," Cormac said taking the lock of hair in his fingers again. Hermione was mildly impressed with how astute his evaluation of Professor Snape was because she knew for sure that some of it was actually true. Hermione looked at him again quickly. He could be quite good looking if he did something about his hair, his pallor, and maybe fixed his teeth up a little, although she had never actually seen him smile so maybe if he just looked happy he wouldn't even have to do that. She was a dentist's daughter though and happened to believe in the quality of even white teeth. There was something streamlined about his body when his robes flowed behind him, and his jaw was chiseled…

"Earth to Hermione," Cormac said waving a hand over her face. Hermione grimaced as Snape caught her looking again and quickly turned to Cormac.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" she asked.

"The Slug Club Christmas party," he repeated. "It seems only natural that we go together, don't you think?"

"Oh, of course, I mean, maybe," she stammered. "I haven't really decided on the party yet that is. Can I get back to you?"

"Naturally," Cormac replied. "I wouldn't expect a pretty girl like you to have only one person to choose from."

Hermione swallowed the guffaw in her throat. With the exception of Krum, whom she acutely missed, there wasn't anyone who'd really batted an eye except for Cormac. Was he blind, or was she? Hermione noted with irony that the table she was sitting at was the very on she had been sitting at when Krum first approached her.

Cormac left her sitting there feeling more alone than she'd felt when she got to the library. Ron was really jealous of Krum too, but he'd done nothing then either. Hermione sighed and looked at her watch. It had stopped. She performed a charm with her wand that told her the time and reset her watch. She had about twenty minutes before she had to leave for her next class, which happened to be DADA. She glanced up as she pulled a fresh sheet of parchment out of her bag so she could scribble a quick note to Viktor. This time Professor Snape was looking at her, and he was sneering. He usually reserved that look for Harry, or when she was bouncing up and down to answer questions in class. She suppressed a shiver and turned to her letter acting as if she didn't even notice him there.

Snape had seen Granger in the library before her DADA lesson studying a large tome in earnest. It was clearly not a class text, and the book looked oddly familiar. It never ceased to amaze him the things she found to do in her spare time. She reminded him a lot of himself in his school days, although she seemed to lack the creative ingenuity he had when it came to developing new uses for things, or improving upon spells and potions. Still, she never took anything for granted which was partly due to her blood status. Muggle-borns were more likely to seek rational explanations for the magical phenomena around them, and Hermione Granger was rational if she was as anything at all.

Still, the end of class could not come fast enough. He took great pleasure in handing out each and every essay he had graded and he made it to her table he made a big show of handing her the essay with the big red O on it.

"Oh, my mistake, this one is Weasley's," he said as he slipped the essay out of her hand and plopped it in front of Ron who proceeded to gape at the grade. "This one is yours."

Hermione took the paper with the D on it shakily from his hand. Her eyes widened and then narrowed in anger at she looked at the paper, and then her eyes widened again in surprise. This all happened in a matter of a few seconds before she schooled her face into neutrality and stuffed the essay in her bag.

"Hermione, did you see? I got an O," Ron said thrusting his paper in her face. "You're the best; I couldn't have done it without you."

Hermione scowled. "I think everyone knows that."

"What's that supposed to be mean?" Ron demanded.

Hermione ignored him. Harry, who had also quickly stuffed his essay back in his bag, looked at Hermione questioningly.

"Um, I have to stay after class. I will talk to you at supper." She waited until Harry had pulled Ron out the door and every other student had left before she approached Snape at the desk in the front of the room.

He didn't look up from the book he was feigning to read until Hermione spoke.

"You wanted to see me, sir," Hermione said with a calm she did not feel.

Snape slowly slid a feather quill in between the pages of his book and gently laid it down on the table.

"I think another detention, or three, should be enough to teach you this lesson, wouldn't you say?" he drawled.

"Lesson, sir?" Hermione asked.

Snape nearly growled in frustration. "Don't play innocent with me, Granger. You and I both know that you wrote more than half of Weasley's essay for him. I gave him the grade you would have received on your paper, had you not decided to do his as well. Naturally, you received the grade Weasley would have gotten had you let him do his own work."

Hermione nearly growled in frustration. She was going to kill Ron for not making the essay look more like his own.

Snape pulled two essays out of a drawer and placed them facing her on the desk. "If you need further proof that your help over the years has ensured that Weasley has learned nothing, look at these."

Hermione stepped up to the table.

"This essay is one your dear boyfriend did all by his lonesome and turned in to me last week."

Hermione skimmed it. I was the essay on the benefits of nonverbal spells that she had refused to assist him with. It was full of spelling and grammatical errors, written in very large letters, and included no useful information whatsoever. The bulk of the essay stated "spells like that are good because they don't let the enemy know you are about to curse them." It was rubbish. The other was one she had helped him with the previous year in potions. It was significantly better, on all counts. Not great, but better.

"This is a copy of his latest effort that I just handed back."

Hermione took the third proffered essay and saw that he did not even bother to change her handwriting to his own in some parts. Her face reddened with fury.

"How is anybody supposed to learn with you around?" he asked sardonically.

What really made Hermione livid was that they both knew full well that Ron in particular would not care to learn whether she was around or wasn't. She was going to get him, plain and simple. Hermione glanced at the essays one last time, but there were no notes on them, only the marks in spiky letters. She was fairly convinced of something, but she needed more proof. More handwriting samples.

"Once again Granger, what lesson do you need to learn?" Snape asked.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I need to learn to let other people do their own work."

"I prefer the term 'cheating,'" he replied. "You seem to have a knack for it."

"But Ron cheated too!" Hermione blurted out unable to control himself.

Snape stood up quickly and stepped around the table to face her.

"Because you allow it," he snarled.

She had nothing to say to that. It was the absolute truth. There was no way to reconcile her belief that she was a good person with high integrity with her behavior without having to overhaul her entire self-ideology. She was a means-end person. The end she wanted was Ron to like her, the means was his homework. It hadn't even worked and now she was in the worst kind of trouble.

"Are you going to report me to Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked timidly.

Snape crossed his arms over his chest. "No. I will handle the problem myself. Fortunately for you there is a certain level of immunity when it comes to being one of Potter's playmates. Certainly you have noticed that none of you have been so much as suspended for any of your rule breaking over the years."

Hermione nodded and picked up her bag assuming they were done.

"Your detentions, Miss Granger will begin tonight at seven."

Hermione walked towards the door, but stopped just before leaving. She turned around slowly. He was still watching her. He raised one black eyebrow as he waited for Hermione to ask the question he'd been waiting for.

"My essay, had I not helped Ron, would have received an 'O'?" she asked.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and gave her a longsuffering sigh. "Yes, Miss Granger. For once you had written something that followed all the directions, included outside sources, and you listed a creative and practical defensive use for what is traditionally used as only a warding spell. A use that I believe I saw demonstrated in class only a few weeks ago. You appear to be learning, Granger. Now you need to step out of the way so the rest of the students here can do the same."

"Yes, sir," Hermione said and shut the door behind her. She was a tumble of emotions. She was furious at Ron. Angry at herself for letting it get this far, and angry that she was going to miss a lesson with Hagrid to come and clean out cupboards or sort flobberworms for Snape for at least three nights. She'd never received this much detention in her life. Part of her was elated that Snape finally had something good to say about her work, but that part of her was tempered with the suspicion that he may be the Half-Blood Prince. She would have to find one of her old essays that he actually wrote comments on. He sometimes left scathing remarks on her homework, but when she began answering the comments with counter arguments he had stopped. When he posted instructions on the board he used a generic writing spell that pretty much looked the same no matter who used it. If he was the Half-Blood Prince she had loads of questions for him.

Hermione bumped into Draco near the Room of Requirement, but he did not even curse at her he like he normally would. That was odd and disappointing because in her present mood she was itching for a fight. She was reminded about Hogsmeade and thought maybe it was time she said something to someone. Hermione moved on to her dorm room and dug out one of her old essays from a collection she kept in her truck. It took some considerable digging but she was able to unearth one from early in fourth year. It had one sentence on it. "Congratulations, you know how to read a textbook." It was perfect. She was positive the mystery was as good as solved. The only question now was what to do with it. She had too much information and nobody to tell it to.

When Hermione returned to the common room she found Harry and Ron talking to Dean about Quidditch.

"What happened?" Ron asked. "Did he want to talk to you about your bad score?"

"No, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "You got the bad grade. He gave you my grade because he knows I did your work. You didn't even bother to change my handwriting in some parts! Now I have at least three detentions with Snape and he thinks I am a cheat! It is entirely your fault!"

"How is it my fault?"Ron yelled. "You offered to help!"

"You're right," she yelled back. "It is my fault for thinking I could trust you or that you appreciated anything I do. I am the idiot here."

"Blimey, Hermione," Ron said. "You don't have to lose control. Nobody called you an idiot."

"You really have three detentions with Snape?" Harry interrupted. "Do you think he is going to tell Dumbledore?"

"No," Hermione said. "And that happens to be one of the interesting parts of this whole thing."

Hermione repeated what Snape had said about the benefits of being one of Harry's friends.

"That slick git," Ron said. "He's just mad because he always hated Harry and hasn't been able to get him kicked out."

"Maybe," Harry said, but the look he exchanged with Hermione said otherwise.

None of them said anything for a few moments as they all settled in at the table to get some work done before supper. Hermione deliberately sat so she wouldn't be facing Ron. She wished she could just get up and leave, but she needed Harry's book.

Hermione made a big display of digging through her bag. "Ugh, I left my potions book in my trunk and I need it for this essay." Hermione tapped the page she was writing on with her quill. "Let me borrow yours, Harry."

Hermione reached across the table to take Harry's since it was always with him these days, but he snatched it back.

"Oh, come on," Hermione said with exaggerated annoyance. "I will give it right back; just let me copy the page I need."

Reluctantly Harry handed the book over. Hermione opened it the chapter on Felix Felicis and copied the page using a quick charm. There was spiky handwriting all over it. Satisfied she had what she needed she closed the book and tossed it back to Harry with more force than was really necessary.

"There, you have it back. Happy now?" Hermione said.

"Quite," Harry replied ignoring her temper and flipping through his book as if to make sure it was still sound.

Later that night Hermione went to her detention absolutely sure she was about to spend it with the Half-Blood Prince. She was still determined to get Professor Snape to admit it though, and she had no immediate plans of sharing the information with Harry or Ron. She was not sure how Ron would react, nor did she care, but she knew that Harry's spirit would be crushed since he had developed some sort of strange imaginary kinship with the Half-Blood Prince. She was not ready to burst that bubble, but it would be nice if she knew more of the motives behind some of the hexes and jinxes in the book.

When she arrived in the DADA dungeon classroom the room was neat and orderly. Snape was waiting already. He was sitting at his desk sipping a cup of tea. Another sat on the desk in front of him along with the special kind of quill that Umbridge used in her detentions and a fresh piece of parchment. She was horrified. Hermione had horrible visions of him forcing to drink tea laced with Veritaserum or a poison of some sort that made her think or do horrible things. She would rather do the lines with that nasty quill than take one sip. He wouldn't really put something in it, would he? Better not to take any chances.

"Would you like a cup of tea?" he asked as soon as she'd sat down.

"No thank you," she said as politely as possible and then added, "sir."

"Why ever not," he said taking a large gulp of his. "It's good and you will be here for awhile. You might get thirsty."

Hermione could here Moody chanting in her head. _Do not take drinks from people you do not trust unless you see them make them._

"I'm sorry sir, but I don't want any tea," she said. "I don't particularly like it."

"Wise, Granger, not to take a drink from someone you don't trust, especially when you did not see it prepared," Snape said.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I trust you not to poison me."

"Why? Isn't it true that I have been out to get you Gryffindors the whole time you have been here?" he said with menace.

Hermione was bound and determined to not be afraid and to keep him talking if that kept him for ordering her to do lines.

"No, sir. It would not be worth your job to do something horrible to me, like poison me. Isn't it true you have been waiting for years to get the Defense post?" Hermione asked daringly.

Snape narrowed his eyes at her and a shadow crossed over his face. He had to cause her some sort of grief so that he could take the memory to Voldemort, but she was not going to make it easy. He really, truly, did not want to hurt her, or give her reasons to hate him more. His ability to protect her depended on her trust. Unlike Potter, he had no excuses for treating her poorly. He wanted to help her, but unfortunately he was going to have to make her do some lines first.

"We are going to play a game, Miss Granger," Snape began. "I am going to ask about some of your deepest darkest secrets and either you can tell me, or you can write a line with Umbridge's quill. It was the only thing of use she left behind in her classroom. Or, you could let me into your mind to find a memory and attempt to block me, or you could write a line."

Hermione was not about to tell him anything she was not already prepared to share. She could implicate herself and a lot of other people if she did. She would rather choose the lines over letting him in her head. If only there was a better way to learn Occlumency from him, which could have been a useful punishment. She absolutely could not believe he was about to do this to her and she was literally beginning to shake with fear and rage.

Snape inwardly sighed. He was frightening her, but what he was really doing was serving a purpose. It was a mild form of interrogation that she needed to learn how to protect herself from. Also, if she allowed him in her mind it would give him an opportunity to teach her Occlumency without having to flat out say he way wanted her to learn. He was in a quandary if she did not cooperate, but he needed her to write at least a couple lines so Voldemort could see it. The fact that Dumbledore approved this detention beforehand did not set well with him either.

"We will start with something easy. What is your full name?" Snape asked.

Hermione looked at him surprised. That she was not afraid to answer. "Hermione Jean Granger."

"Where were you born?"

"Eastbourne, East Sussex, England."

Hermione fought a sigh of relief. Maybe he was simply trying to scare her.

"Let's make this a little more difficult shall we?" he asked.

"Did you really believe that you could fight a fully grown mountain troll on your own in your first year?" he asked.

This one was more difficult. Did she say yes and spare herself the embarrassment of admitting that she had been hiding out in the bathroom crying? Was it really worth a line with that painful quill?

"Times almost up, Granger, I may have to just have a peek at the answer myself," Snape drawled.

"No," Hermione said quickly. "I did not."

"Then what possessed you to go into that bathroom?" he asked.

Hermione sighed and picked up the quill. He had a personal hand in humiliating her plenty of times over the years. She was not about to let him know about the moments he was not involved with.

"What do you want me to write?" Hermione asked coolly.

Snape appeared to be considering her words. "I want you to write 'I should be afraid of the Dark Lord.'"

Hermione's eyes snapped up and met his. She was expecting something like 'cheat.' There was something else going on here. He looked at her with a barely detectable amount of pleading in his eyes, like his hand was being forced to force hers. Fortunately for him she was making it easy to get over with quickly, and over such a little thing. She was protective of her past.

Taking a deep breath Hermione brought the quill to parchment and began to write. She bit her lip as the searing pain in her non writing hand took hold. It was awful, much worse than Harry ever made it sound. The words appeared slowly in her small, but tidy scrawl and when she was finished slowly covered up again with new skin.

"Has Harry Potter stolen potions ingredients from my stores?" Snape continued without comment about the bloody line she had just written.

"No," Hermione nearly gasped. Relieved that she could be both honest and avoid a line.

"Have you?" Snape asked quickly. He had not planned on asking for her was sure Potter had been the one to steal the Polyjuice Potions ingredients and the Gillyweed.

Hermione decided to let him have this one too. "Yes. I stole some ingredients to make Polyjuice Potion in my second year. If you recall correctly I made a mistake and used a cat hair and spent time in the hospital wing recovering before I was petrified."

He did remember. "You made a mistake with the hair, but that does not mean the potion was not brewed correctly."

"It was," she replied. There was really nothing he could do about it now.

Snape wanted to talk to her more about the potions, but he had to move on. "What has Potter told you about his visits with Dumbledore?"

That she was not about to divulge. She knew that Dumbledore trusted Snape and most likely already knew what they discussed in their meetings, but if he didn't she was not about to tell him. He was a spy after all and that information could really hurt their cause if Voldemort found out. Hermione picked up the quill again.

"Same line, sir?"

"No. This time I want you to write, 'I am good at cheating, so do not trust me.'"

That hurt more than the lines. She was trustworthy and she had just proved it by being willing to write lines rather than tell a secret. Biting back a small sob she put the quill to paper again. The pain was much worse the second time as the skin reopened. When she was finished she set the quill down quickly and stared at her pink skin.

To her surprise Snape picked up the quill and the parchment. He put them both in a drawer. He walked to the store room and came back with a bowl with some plant tentacles floating in it.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Essence of murtlap," Hermione said immediately.

Snape pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dipped it in the bowl. He handed it to Hermione.

"Thank you," she whispered as the pain in her hand eased. She was impressed with Harry's tolerance to pain because that hurt.

"Granger, why did you choose the lines over my using Legilimency on you?" Snape asked with a genuine note of curiosity.

Hermione decided it was safe to start answering questions more freely. "I have studied the theory behind Occlumency and Legilimency, but have not been able to test my abilities."

"Naturally," he replied. "Potter would be of no use to you, and I doubt any of your friends from Dumbledore's Army would be any help either. It is a delicate skill."

Hermione ignored the affront to Harry and her friends. "I have always wanted to learn. I used to keep bothering Harry about closing his mind, and I would practice it too."

"It's good to know one of you took it seriously," Snape said.

Hermione was indignant. "Harry did! He really tried, but he just could not do it. Voldemort hasn't been inside his mind this year."

"That's because the Dark Lord closed the connection, you silly girl, and be careful with that name!"

"Fear of the name only makes you afraid of the thing itself," Hermione recited.

Snape sneered at Hermione. "That is one name you, of all people, should learn to fear."

"Sir, what are you trying to say? Am I in some particular danger with You-Know-Who because of my friendship with Harry or something?" Hermione barraged him.

Snape held up a hand to stop her. "You are going to learn Occlumency. Beginning now."

Before Hermione could blink Snape was in her mind. Images of her past began to soar past her mind's eye until they began to slow. Soon the images were limited to her in the library, and then they were limited to when she was in the library with Viktor Krum. Using all her might she tried to put the memories behind a black screen so he could not see them anymore. It felt like he saw every moment she shared with Krum before he was gone.

"That was a sufficient first attempt."

Hermione pressed her fingers to her throbbing temples and tried not to be angry about the sneak attack. He was going to teach her Occlumency and that was all that mattered. This detention was strange beyond imagination. She expected to have another go, but instead dismissed her until the same time and day the following week.

Before Hermione left though she decided to tell about Draco because Professor Snape was his head of house, after all, and she had to tell someone before something worse than what Katie happened if Harry's suspicions were correct.

"The day that Katie was cursed Harry accused Draco Malfoy of giving the cursed necklace to Katie Bell somehow at Hogsmeade. Professor McGonagall said that Malfoy was not even in Hogsmeade that day because he was doing detention with her, but I saw him there with my own eyes. I passed him and Katie Bell near the bathrooms at the Three Broomsticks. Katie ignored me which was really strange of her to do, and Malfoy called me a Mudblood just as he always does," Hermione confided. "I am almost positive it was really him, but if someone is stealing potions supplies from your cupboards right now, it might be worth investigating."

Snape looked at Hermione closely with an inscrutable expression. "Have you mentioned this to anyone else?"

"No, Professor."

"Not even Potter and Weasley?"

"Especially not Harry, I don't want him to jump to any wild conclusions and do something he will regret. I think this is best left up to the teachers. Harry thinks Malfoy is a Death Eater now and is on some sort of mission for Vold-, You-Know-Who." Hermione bit her lip afraid she might have said too much.

"What do you think, Miss Granger," Snape asked.

Hermione considered. "I think Harry is right about Malfoy being up to something, but I don't know if they would let him be a Death Eater, unless he was forced to do it."

"If you know that I am a spy for both sides, don't you suppose that I would already know if Malfoy is a Death Eater, or if he is up to a plot here in the castle?"

Hermione immediately felt foolish for bringing it up to him. And now she had gone and fed him information about Harry that he could use to stop Malfoy from being so careless, and then they would never be able to figure out what was going on. Why was she so stupid?

"If it makes you feel any better, Miss Granger, I did not know, and do not know what Malfoy's plans are in the castle this year." That was at least half true. He knew what Draco was supposed to do, but not how. Hopefully it would be enough information to gain her trust. He had high hopes for Hermione Granger. Draco, on the other hand, he simply hoped to keep out of trouble.

**A/N: Okay, another chapter up. I will have to take a break for a couple of days because I have paper to write for school, but it has been fun. Send a review they make me feel good! Thanks to those of you who have reviewed, I will reply personally as soon as I can! Oh, and BTW, I took liberties with Hermione's birthplace. I don't recall JKR ever mentioning where she actually lived. **


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Hermione Undaunted

Chapter 5

Hermione lay in bed for long hours thinking over her third and final detention with Professor Snape. He had told her a lot of things he probably should not have during the first one and then said almost nothing over the course of the next two. She reciprocated in kind and set to pickling rat spleens extracting flobberworm mucus with the same kind of aplomb she usually approached all her work. Even if she was not going to be using the flobberworm mucus herself, there was no reason she could not extract high quality product for the next person. In so doing she helped assuage some of her own guilt of knowingly, and with very little conscience, cheating. Out of all the things Professor Snape had to say to her, that weighed on her the heaviest. Was there a justification for cheating? She was never one to really see things in pure black and white, but perhaps the shades of grey were more numerous than she originally imagined. Snape's admission that Voldemort was aware of her, and that strange detention where he had uncomfortably given her Umbridge's quill did not even weigh as heavily on her mind as his accusations against her character. That, and the way he smelled. That would not really leave her mind either. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she never even thought to question why she was doing typical potions detention when he now taught DADA.

Nevertheless, the silence between them reigned supreme for hours and hours. What he did do was every so often was look at her and attempt to invade her mind while she worked. His Legilimency was mild and never penetrated deeper than the task she was currently working on, but by the third detention she was able to feel when he was trying to make eye contact and she stopped looking up at him. He seemed satisfied that this was a development and started trying to penetrate her mind without catching her eye. She missed his first few intrusions and he caught he thinking about Amortentia while she was pickling the last of the rat spleens, but she managed to Occlude him quickly at least if not a little sloppily. He still never spoke and she could not even work up the courage to ask him about the potions book. She did not really need confirmation anymore that he was indeed the Half-Blood Prince, but she did want to know why their text was so inept that a mere teenager could run roughshod over it and only do improvement. How was she supposed to learn anything at all? Maybe she would not have to ask. She could simply bring the information to the front of her mind and let him see it for himself.

Hermione was putting a stopper in the last vial of flobberworm mucus with one hand and vanishing her mess with the other when she heard Snape's chair scrape back from his desk audibly. The way he clenched his left fist made it painfully clear he had been summoned and his warnings from a few days previously finally settled inside her. _His is a name, you above all people, should learn how to fear, _he had said. Was she really that important to Voldemort? Sure she was Harry Potter's best friend and was preparing to make the war go as smoothly as possible for her and her friends, but what chance did she really have against him? She wasn't the only Muggle born out there that he could possibly have a problem with.

"That will be all, Miss Granger."

Hermione glanced at his arm quickly and she knew that he recognized her understanding of why she was being so abruptly dismissed. Her insides still turned a little cold as he directed his angry and stony glare at her. She nodded quickly and stepped through the doorway as he held the door open for her and disappeared out of the dungeons without even looking back.

It had gotten very late and she hoped that Professor Snape was back and unharmed. If only there was something she could do.

..

..

Severus Snape sat back in his chair and silently reveled in the singular joy of watching Albus Dumbledore purple faced with rage and frustration. Severus took great pleasure in making people angry even at the risk of biting the hands that feed him. It was careless and very un-Slytherin like, but then Dumbledore always did say that Severus should have been a Gryffindor.

"You are a spy, Severus," Dumbledore hissed through clenched teeth. "Your duty is to pass information along, not withhold it."

"Not until you explain your little escapades," Severus said calmly picking an imaginary piece of dirt from underneath his fingernail.

Dumbledore pushed his glasses further up on his nose and glared at Severus. "I will dispense information to you as necessary."

"As will I," Snape replied unconcerned. The information he had was not exactly worth the drama, Snape just wanted to make Dumbledore's blood boil. The old man had already asked him for far more than he ever imagined he would have to give and the stress was taking its toll on both of them. "What is it about Potter that makes him so damned important?"

"The prophecy, Severus, the prophecy," Dumbledore said with a longsuffering sigh.

It was Severus's turn to lose his patience. "Forget the sodding prophecy. You and I both know they are self-fulfilling and that I could walk up to the Dark Lord and use the Killing Curse on him myself, and he would still be dead. What have you been doing, and why is it so damned important that Potter's left alive to end this? What have you been teaching him? What do you know?"

"I will dispense that information when the time is appropriate," Dumbledore repeated. "You need to protect Potter and his friends. He will need them and will not be able to complete his mission without them. You will need to trust me."

"Unrequited trust," Severus mused. "It doesn't have the same melancholic notes that unrequited love has does it? Yet it is still romantic, pathetic, and incredibly like you."

Albus, fully recovered from his previous fury ignored the comment. "You must also convince Draco to go into hiding with Order as soon as feasibly possible. After my death they can protect him and his mother."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Draco is a Death Eater now, Albus. There is only way out of that particular club."

"Nevertheless, you must try," Dumbledore insisted.

"Do you remember my friend, Regulus Black?" Severus asked but didn't wait for an answer. "He knew something about the Dark Lord as well. I wonder if your little escapades are similar to his. Of course, he ended up dead as far as we know since his body was never recovered, killed by the Dark Lord himself most likely. Maybe you will kill yourself on one of these trips and solve Draco's problem for him. Perhaps you should share what you are doing with someone besides Potter so that if you do, let's just say, slip and fall; your mission will still be complete."

"When I confirm my suspicions you and Potter both will know what you need to know to complete my mission," Dumbledore replied his temper beginning to flare again.

Severus threw back and laughed. "Ah, so you admit it is _your _mission and Potter doesn't even know what you are scheming, yet you have convinced him to blindly follow you into the dark as well as me?"

"What's the matter, Severus? Disappointed to learn that you have more in common with the boy than you thought?" Dumbledore asked drily.

Severus made a sound somewhere deep in his throat. He had plenty in common with Potter and he refused to admit to a single bit of it.

"Tut-tut, Severus," Dumbledore chastised. "Take care of your students. That is an order."

"They are your students as well," Severus reminded him.

Dumbledore placed his palms flat on his desk and leant forward towards Severus. "Do not think I have forgotten that."

Severus made no reply. As far as he was concerned the meeting was over.

"Your information, Severus. What did you learn from your last meeting with the Dark Lord?" Dumbledore persisted, the twinkle in his eye dulling to an icy blue.

"Funny how the tables can be turned, isn't it?" Severus asked snidely just to anger the old man even more.

"Remember your oaths, Severus. Do not forget who it was that kept you alive."

"Well, we all make mistakes, don't we?" Severus stood up knowing full well that was going to give Dumbledore the information he wanted and not liking himself for it one bit. "The Dark Lord has narrowed down his candidates for whom he would like to raise to the seat of Minister for Magic when Scrimgeour is assassinated. It might also behoove the Order to appoint a secretary to the Muggle Prime Minister for protection and damage control. It could be months before the Dark Lord has Ministry control, but it shouldn't be too long before the Death Eaters make the magical world undeniably known to the Muggles."

Dumbledore relaxed back in his chair. The satisfied expression he had on his face was enough to make Severus loathe him for the moment.

"Who is on the top of the list for Minister?" Dumbledore asked visibly mulling the news over.

Severus stood up to leave. "Pius Thicknesse."

Severus was all the way to the door before Dumbledore chuckled behind him. "You have to stop avoiding me, Severus. You cannot do this by yourself."

"That's rather hypocritical coming from you, don't you think?" Severus asked. "Perhaps I am simply preparing for when you are gone."

"You are a good man, Severus," Dumbledore told him. They both knew that each was already grudgingly forgiven for their stubbornness. It was a forgiveness borne out necessity for without it neither would make it through the year alive, rather than just the one. Their friendship would weather whatever storms their respective temperaments brewed as they both coped with their future loss. "Take care of my students."

Severus waved a noncommittal hand in the air and left the office. He was tired and grateful that he would be collapsing into bed simply because he needed sleep for once and not because he needed to sleep off the aftershocks of torture or the aftershocks of massive drunkenness as occasionally happened at the rare Death Eater recruiting party. Those, thank the deities, were few and far between these days. Severus sat on the edge of his bed in nothing but his boxer shorts and mulled over bits of the conversation he'd had with the Headmaster. What was it about the Dark Lord that made him so difficult to dispose of? If Dumbledore did not want to tell him, well he was a spy and could find out for himself.

..

..

Severus was pleased to see that conditions outside were ideal for a Quidditch match. Slytherin versus Gryffindor matches were always entertaining and he was not above admitting that his feelings toward Quidditch were rather positive. In another life he could imagine himself playing on a local league and chanting in the stands drunk on sports and beer with the rest of the blokes with season tickets to see their favorite professional team. What he really hoped for was to see Gryffindor squashed by the Slytherin team again. It hadn't happened since Potter joined up as seeker, and just once before he had to leave the castle for good he wanted to see it happen again. Even Minerva, with whom he normally got on rather well, was swept up in support of her house, and their usual amity was temporarily shelved in favor of good natured rivalry.

Weasley looked purple faced with nerves and wasn't shoveling the usual pound or two of food down his gullet like he normally did. Snape could only hope those nerves would bleed into a poor performance. Potter was busy plying him drinks and Severus could tell by the Gryffindor captain's actions that he was desperate to cheer Weasley up. It was about that time that Granger entered the room and argued furiously with Ron and Harry before storming away from the both of them and sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table nearest the Head table instead. She opened a book and pretended to peer at it as she ate her cereal. However, her attention was clearly not focused and Severus felt his lips turn up at the corners at her furious scowl. Was she finally beginning to realize she needed new friends? After a moment she directed her angry gaze at him and he met her eyes with amusement. Her expression hardened some more before she looked away and Severus felt himself deflate. No doubt she was thinking about the little reminder she'd gotten the night before that he was indeed still a Death Eater. He had not even really considered what Granger thought of him before that point, but the realization that it was not positive needled.

Hermione was so angry with Ron and Harry that she hadn't even bothered to check the teacher's table to make sure Professor Snape was there. When she finally did he seemed almost downright jovial for him. Instead of scowling the corners of his mouth were slightly turned up. Any other day she would have been absolutely sure he was under the Imperius, but today she didn't care. He looked healthy and she was more relieved than she probably should have been to see it, but it did nothing to assuage her anger, and part of her directed that anger towards her clueless professor. If he had the nerve to punish Hermione for using a Confundus charm or for helping Ron with his homework when she shouldn't have, then surely Harry would really get it if he knew that there was Felix Felicis in Ron's pumpkin juice. Hermione bit back a growl at the injustice of it all because Harry never got punished for doing anything illegal. Dumbledore always made sure of that and since Hermione would never tell that he used a potion to cheat at a Quidditch match she would have to keep it to herself. It still really gutted her that she would be loyal even though she protested her and they would thank her by giving her the silent treatment.

After Gryffindor won the match, which Hermione really only watched throughout so she didn't know the details, she thought it would be best to try to make peace. Since her damnable hormones told her she still fancied Ron somewhat she figured the only way to make herself feel better would be to pretend the Felix Felicis episode never happened and congratulate him on a game well played. To her surprise and utter delight when she got to the Gryffindor changing rooms, Harry told them both that he had only pretended to put the potion in and that Ron played well all on his own. Instead of being pleased all he could do was round on Hermione and point out that she'd had a problem with Felix Felicis and thought he couldn't play without it. When Ron stormed out of the locker room stinking like sweaty leather she'd finally decided she'd had enough of him.

Hermione didn't go to the party in the Gryffindor common room right away. Instead she stalked up and down the hallways for a little while, narrowly missing a clearly disgruntled Professor Snape by ducking behind a suit of armor, and then retreating to the library. Even the sanctity of her favorite room in the castle did not bring her comfort so she decided to head back to the common room to get a butter beer if nothing else. As soon as she walked into the cacophonous common room her eyes zeroed straight in on Ron and Lavender Brown intertwined so tightly she couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Despite herself, her eyes filled with tears and she left as quietly as she'd arrived stopping in the first empty classroom she could find.

Hermione conjured a small flock of canaries out of the tip of her wand and watched them fly around in circles above her head while she cried. Conjuring birds really is impressive magic, conjuring anything is advanced magic, but she wasn't even in the mood to celebrate her own private success. How could she have been so daft as to like Ron enough to think that he actually might like her too? They had absolutely nothing in common. Ron was repugnant and she could finally see it. Let Lavender have him, they are perfect for each other. Harry liked Ginny, not that she really fancied Harry in the first place, Cormac was vile even if he was good looking, and there was no other boy in school that made her feel anything at all.

Hermione shook her head both mentally and physically. "No! I have to keep my head together. Harry needs protecting and I have a war to fight." She stared at her birds and thought how wonderful it would be to fly away from it all like one of them.

Harry chose that moment to interrupt her followed shortly by Ron who was tugging Lavender along clearly looking for a private place. Hermione lost control of herself and after sending her lovely birds careening after Ron she tore out of the classroom fighting back sobs. She went to her room grabbed her bag and made a beeline for the library once more. She would immerse herself in research and forget about everything else for awhile. Despite being late afternoon and a Saturday there were still a few industrious students perusing the stacks in the library and hunkering over their books at the tables. Hermione found a dusty corner near the restricted section and settled down to make a list. As she wrote she swiped at furious tears and forced her mind not to wander.

In the end she had decided she needed to learn Legilimency, master Occlumency, brew an antidote to Veritaserum and Nagini's poison, start compiling a list of survival potions she would need to collect, find a way to brew Polyjuice Potion without letting any teachers know, find out how difficult it would be to create another secret tunnel between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, and learn how to become an Animagus. Hermione sat staring at her list wondering how she was going to fit all that in with her studies. Not having any distractions from boys would make it a lot easier, even if she was having difficulties not thinking about them and the way they could smell like cedar, nutmeg, and violets. No, not boys, it was _Snape _who smelled like that.

"Ambitious curriculum you have set for yourself, Miss Granger."

Hermione immediately wiped her parchment blank with her wand before turning to face Professor Snape. From the vantage point of her seat he seemed taller than usual. He was stood in his usual position with shoulders scare, arms crossed, and eyes peering down over his large hooked nose as if he did not have the physical ability to tilt his head down and look properly. Hermione knew she was red and splotchy from crying and she tried not to blush even redder from embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, sir?" Playing dumb seemed the safest bet considering the tasks she was planning to embark on broke nearly every school rule and Snape did not seem like he was pleased at all.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Don't act coy with me, Granger. Clearly you need to add practice constant vigilance to your list since I was able to stand behind you long enough to read the entire thing."

Hermione could feel tears pricking at her eyes again. Now even her war efforts were about to be thwarted. Was there nothing that would go right this year?

"It's nothing, sir." Hermione folded up the blank parchment and shoved it into her bag. She stood up to leave, but he was standing so close to her chair that she actually bumped into him with it making her feel even more awkward. "Sorry."

Snape ignored Hermione and sidestepped the chair just to plant himself in front of her again. The look in his eyes was typical Snape. Dark, brooding, condescending, and a little mad. Hermione found herself staring into his eyes wondering if they had ever been filled with anything else, like laughter, calm, or lust. She blushed again and looked away.

"Why aren't you in your common room celebrating with the rest of your housemates?" He bit the last few words out through clenched teeth still stung from the loss of the game. If Gryffindor continued to play that way there would be no chance of the Quidditch cup for Slytherin again.

Hermione snorted in response and then covered her mouth immediately. The last person she wanted to be disrespectful towards was Snape.

"I think another detention is in order."

"Professor, I-," Hermione began, but stopped short when he redirected his glare on her. "Yes, sir."

"Come to my office after dinner. We will begin your detentions tonight."

"Detentions?" Hermione said a little too loudly. "But sir, you said another detention." She stressed the _n_ on the last syllable.

He didn't say anything. He simply stared down his nose at her until she finally nodded her head and walked away. Hermione was crying again by the time she made it into her dormitory. Instead of going down to dinner Hermione waited until she after the dinner hour was over and worked her way to the dungeons. She had gone from feeling sorry for herself to quite surly over the course of the afternoon and all the girls in her dorm had left again quite quickly if they happened to venture in. Lavender never bothered to come in at all because she was no doubt too busy sucking face with Ron.

Snape was not in his office when she arrived so she leaned up against the wall to wait. While she waited she cast her own variation of the shield charm and then cancelled it over and over again so that soon she was turning it on and turning it off in rhythm with her heartbeat. She was so absorbed in what she was doing that she yelped in pain and surprise when a stinging hex slipped through while it was off and hit her on the side of the neck. She looked around wildly for her attacker and saw no one until a Disillusioned Snape revealed himself at the end of the corridor.

"Constant vigilance, Granger," he drawled as he approached her with his robes billowing out behind him. It never ceased to amaze him that even when he was advancing slowly his robes would blow out as if he came with his own personal breeze. "Surely you paid attention in Moody's class?"

Hermione got defensive and tried to not appear intimidated which was difficult to do when her eyes were leaking involuntary tears from the gigantic stinging welt on her neck. She pressed her hand tighter to her throat, but it did nothing to suppress the swelling. "It was not Moody."

Snape waved away her comment as he unwarded his office door and led her inside. He shut the door behind him and motioned for her to sit in the hard straight backed chair he had in front of his desk. "Moody still says it as we both know."

Hermione kept her mouth shut and tried not to look as angry as she felt.

"Your shield is impressive, and will be more so when you learn more control. I notice that it protects you from behind as well." Snape sat down in his more comfortable looking desk chair leaned back and crossed his legs. He laced his fingers over his stomach and managed to peer down his nose at her even from that position. Hermione could not help the little thrill she felt course through her body at seeing him in such a casual arrangement. _What in the bloody hell was that? _Snape? Ugh.

"Yes, sir, but as you said I do need to learn more control," she admitted trying to keep her voice steady. Thankfully her face was already red from suppressing the pain of the stinging hex so he did not see her blush. She gestured to the welt on her throat. "And I need to practice constant vigilance."

Professor Snape stood up and disappeared out of the office and returned in a moment with some balm for her throat. Hermione took it gratefully and sighed as the stinging immediately went away.

Once Hermione appeared comfortable again, Professor Snape gazed at her with an intense stare. He was one of the few who truly understood the girl's potential, and he understood why Voldemort would be attracted to someone like her. He even understood why Potter and Weasley wanted her around even if they did not truly understand or always appreciate her. What he did not understand was why she latched herself onto them. She did not appear to be vainglorious even if this war was as much hers to fight as it was the Potter's, so her reasoning for needing their friendships above all others mystified him. Still, it was that friendship he needed to exploit if he was going to solve any of the other mysteries he needed to solve in any sort of timely manner.

Hermione was tempted to quail under his gaze, but she held firm and placed her mental shields up as stably as she could. She did not feel any pressure from her professor though.

"Tell me, Granger," Snape drawled and Hermione found she was pleased that he had dropped her honorific. "What are you and your friends up to these days?"

It took a moment for Hermione to get past Snape's honeyed tones and focus on the words he had said. "Sir?"

Snape fought the urge to pinch off the headache growing at the bridge of his nose and to skip the little chat and simply invade her mind. "I imagine you are all plotting some sort illegal activities to carry out before the end of the year. After all, it would hardly be Hogwarts for you three if you did not include something incredibly dangerous and stupid to do right around exam time."

Hermione stiffened her shoulders and her mental shields. "What _activities_ we may have been involved in were certainly not ones we would share with the faculty and I hardly see why we should start now. Sir."

Snape ignored the slightly insolent tone. "Don't you think, Granger, that if any of you had consulted a teacher or the Headmaster in the past when trouble arose that you may have avoided a lot of the situations you found yourselves in?"

Hermione was confused. It was clear he wanted to know if they were planning anything that could get them in trouble like the previous year when they were in the Department of Mysteries, but he was being incredibly vague. Why he was fishing and not outright asking was beyond her, but she would play along.

"I tell Harry all the time to get advice from a more qualified adult, but in his defense the one time we did, no one believed us anyway. Actually that's happened twice now."

"When exactly has this happened?" Snape asked leaning forward slightly. He could not remember any moment in the past when a member of the Gryffindor trio had actually humbled themselves enough to seek assistance.

"First year we went to Professor McGonagall and told her that someone was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone and she told us to go away." Hermione already knew that Professor McGonagall had relayed the message to Dumbledore when he had returned to the castle that night, but it was not until then that she even thought it important enough.

Professor Snape grunted. "Fine, but when else?"

"Several weeks ago Harry mentioned that he believed Malfoy put Katie Bell under the Imperius Curse and gave her the necklace. As far as we know, no one has taken that complaint seriously," Hermione said.

"Do you take it seriously?" Snape inquired, truly curious.

Hermione stared at the wall pensively for a moment before looking back at Snape. His gaze had remained level on hers. She was beginning to feel slight nudges on the edge of her mind and forced her shields to stay strong while she talked. "At first I thought he was barking mad because I figured there was no way Voldemort would let Draco be a Death Eater, but we already had that conversation. Now, I know that whether I agree with Harry or not it is best to act as if I do because assuming Malfoy is _not_ dangerous would _be _dangerous. Besides, as I told you before, I saw Malfoy that day. If he was here doing detention with McGonagall then somebody was using Polyjuice or extremely confounded."

"I see," he replied dismissing her words and Hermione felt the mental pressure ease up. "Does Potter share with you what he learns in his private lessons with Professor Dumbledore?"

Hermione sat up straighter to the abrupt change of subject. "Who are you asking for? Yourself, or Voldemort?"

"The name, Miss Granger, careful with the name," Snape hissed and she felt his pressure strengthen against her mind once again, but she was weakening and soon he would learn something she probably did not want him to know. She wanted to trust him, but he was a Death Eater and a spy, and no matter how good he smelled or how silky she thought his voice was that was a recipe for disaster.

Snape gave in to his headache and pinched the bridge of his nose. He summoned a headache potion and downed it before answering her.

"Incidentally, this is information I would like to know for myself. I have my reasons."

Hermione decided she could admit that he did share the information, but that was as far as she would go. "Of course he tells me."

"Did Dumbledore forbid you from discussing it with anyone else?" Snape pushed a little harder in her mind and the shield slipped just enough to give him his answer. Hermione's temples were beginning to throb and she was sorely tempted to reach out for the remainder of his headache potion.

Snape flopped back into his chair sneering. Clearly there was something making him angry beyond the fact that Dumbledore forbade her and her friends from discussing Harry's lessons outside their little group. He seemed to forget she was there as he sat there brooding and she felt immense relief as he disengaged from her mind fully even though he had never fully penetrated it in the first place. Occlumency was exhausting, but when she was finally able to think clearly again something clicked.

"Dumbledore won't even tell you what he is doing with Harry." It was a statement not a question and Hermione fought to keep from clapping a hand over her mouth for having the audacity to speak out loud.

Snape's eyes snapped on her. He was clearly on the brink of rage. He said nothing, but he did not dismiss her so Hermione decided to push her luck a little further.

"Sir, what does this have to do with Malfoy?"

"What?" he snapped.

Hermione fidgeted and struggled to pull her shields up once more as she felt his presence near her mind once again. "You asked how I felt about Malfoy, and then about Harry."

"So you are admitting that Potter's visits with Dumbledore have nothing to do with Malfoy?" he asked.

"I think you already know the answer to that." Hermione was sure that had to be true. There was something in Professor Snape's face that made Hermione feel badly for him. He was clearly enraged that Dumbledore was withholding information, but there was something else too. Something more like regret mingled with sorrow, tossed together with fear. Still she would not trust him. Not yet.

"You are correct. I do know that one has nothing to do with the other." Snape rearranged his face into a blank mask once he realized how intently Hermione was regarding his expression.

"What happened to Dumbledore's arm?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"It was cursed." Snape's blunt reply was dripping with sarcasm, and that was a language she knew well.

"You don't say?" Hermione drawled in return and rolled her eyes.

Snape's black eyes flashed again. "Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked properly chastised. It should have been clear to Snape that she was not going to volunteer any information to him unless he pried it out of her mind and she was tempted to tell he to get on with it because she'd had a long day and wanted to go to sleep. Clearly he had to know that Dumbledore never told Harry what the curse was doing or she would never have asked.

"Dumbledore's dying isn't he?" she asked.

Snape stood up. "This detention is over. I will notify you of the next one."

Hermione stood awkwardly, but gratefully, and left. Snape's reaction to her last question could only mean one thing. Dumbledore was dying, but the question was how much time was left? And would Harry learn all he needed to know before the end?

As soon as Granger was gone, Snape rested his head on his arms. She had kept her shields up incredibly well only letting them slip once. She was a fast learner. The only problem was he was not sure how he was going to gain her trust so that he could get the information he needed. He supposed the best way to do it would be to mentor her in some capacity, or give her answers to the questions she asked. Tit for tat and all that, but that could be dangerous. Would he risk sacrificing Granger to help end the war? The immediate answer that popped into his mind sickened him.


End file.
